Perfect
by Miric
Summary: “Kyle.” The name dropped into the void between them, filling the room to the point where he could barely breathe. Loving someone who's loved is hard. Kenny/OC, Kyle/OC, Style Stan/Kyle.
1. Engaged

_And welcome to Perfect. _

_Let me know what you think. Hopefully I'll have the next chapter up in about a week. This story will probably be 6 or 7 chapters in total. Obviously I do not own South Park, and while Style is not the main theme of this story, it's definitively there, so don't bother reading if you're just going to rant at me about it._

_For those of you who don't give a shit -_

_Enjoy  
_

_Miric_

* * *

_And that's where he found her, staring across Stark's Pond, red tear tracks still burning trails down her face._

____ ___  
_

Kenny watched Stan flutter around the small apartment, smiling wryly. The little spaz was so damn nervous he had worked himself into a whirling version of his mother; cleaning, cooking, moving the centerpiece on the table too and fro. If it wasn't so sad, it would be absolutely hilarious. He leaned back, the corner of the doorway he stood in uncomfortable between his thin shoulders. He shifted slightly, relieving the irritation before looking up. He couldn't hold back a small laugh when he realized that in the short moment he had looked away the little black haired tornado had managed to get past him. He could hear objects shuffling on the bathroom counter, mixed with muttered obscenities. He rolled his eyes, walking down the tiny hallway and poking his head into the room.

"Stan"

"What?" The dark haired boy snapped, blue eyes flashing in aggravation, before quickly melting to a more reasonable level of frustration. "Sorry Ken, what do you need?"

"All kinds of things obviously, but the first thing on the agenda is to get you calmed down. Come watch TV with me or something." He raised an eyebrow at the panic that flittered through his friends gaze.

"I can't. The apartment is still a mess, and dinner isn't ready yet, and I need to get to the store and pick up the beer and -" Kenny grabbed the washcloth from the other boys hand dangling it teasingly in front of his face.

"Stan. I know this may be hard for your gay little mind to comprehend, but it isn't a big deal. I know your girlfriend is finally coming home, but I really doubt that being able to see his face in the bathroom floor is going to be his first concern." He was rewarded for his insight with a punch to the shoulder.

"Shut the hell up. It's been forever since I saw Kyle. I just don't want to have to worry about cleaning when he's here."

"Right, because you aren't acting like a girl whose boyfriends coming home from war."

"University is pretty damn close to war," Stan muttered, once again polishing the wooden counter top. "Wait...Hey!" Kenny laughed, already turning the corner into the kitchen and grabbing his coat. "I'll grab the beer Stan, and when I get back, we're sitting down and watching TV." Stan's answer was incomprehensible.

The sun shone down brightly on his face and he smiled, closing his eyes. Sometimes the tiny little town was a nice place to live, and on a quiet Sunday afternoon in late October, with the weather just starting to get crisp this was one of those times. He shuffled through the thin layer of snow on the sidewalk, leaving two long lines marking his way. Nothing ever changed around here; well, not for the most part anyways. Obviously he wasn't living at home anymore, and his boots were of a good enough quality that he couldn't feel the water soaking through to his socks, but the sleepy little town was still exactly the same. Same people, same places, same seasons, same weird shit.

He had always found it ironic that 'the same' in South Park was completely INsane anywhere else. And nothing would have changed with the people either. Kyle would come home, to his Super Best Friend and once again Kenny would be the outlier. Not that he minded all that much; he was still close with the two other boys, but he wouldn't be the first one called on a boring friday night anymore. He wouldn't be the one they would talk to, or hang with, or even rip on. It was rather depressing.

So instead of dwelling on it he sped up, jogging towards the liquor store. Walking into the warm interior he waved at Butter's at the counter before grabbing two cases of beer from one of the small fridges. He walked up, grinning at the blonde man before him who grinned happily back.

"Hey Kenny, how's it going?" He dropped the beer on the counter, wincing as his finger clipped the edge of a bottle cap awkwardly. He stuck the punctured finger into his mouth, muttering around it.

"Oh, just fine. Keeping Stan from combusting. I swear that kid is going to work himself into an early grave before Kyle even gets there."

"Kyle's back in town? That's good! Do you need a band-aid?" Kenny reached into his back pocked with his left hand, pulling out his worn brown wallet. "Nah dude, I'm fine. Thanks for asking though."

"That'll be 28.94." Handing over the change, Kenny threw Butters a smile, grabbed his bags and headed back out into the snow.

The apartment was silent when Kenny got back. He frowned - where was the spaz?

"Yeah Stan, we're engaged." Dropping the bag on the counter he walked into the tense silence of the living room. Kyle stood in the middle of the small room, staring at his oldest friend. Stan on the other hand didn't seem to be looking at anything. Shock covered his face, holding him paralyzed. It was a long moment before Kenny noticed a flicker of emotion flash across his eyes. Rolling his in recognition, he took a step forward. The two men didn't even notice. The young women standing slightly behind Kyle did though, and she turned to look at him, her eyes forcibly calm. He threw her a half smile, before grabbing her arm gently and pulling her away from the stifling room. He grabbed the case of beer, and led her down the hallway to the bedroom. He felt her tense as she noticed where they were but relaxed when he led her onto the small balcony coming off of the room.

He settled on to the ground, looking out onto the quiet street, watching out of the corner of his eye as she did the same. Wordlessly he handed her an open beer, and after a moments hesitation she took it. Taking a deep swallow, she made a face, before settling down again. He chuckled slightly.

"Sorry, if I knew we were having more delicate guests I would have grabbed something a little higher quality." She shrugged.

"It's fine. I just don't drink too often." Her voice was soft, and sweet. Absently she pulled her long brown hair over her shoulder, braiding small strands. She jumped when the first shout came from the living room. Moving to stand, panic flashed through her eyes when Kenny grabbed her wrist again.

"Relax, sit. They're fine, Stan's just venting, and Kyle's being Kyle. That sexy redhead temper of his. Give them ten minutes and they will come find us and life will go on like normal. They'll just pretend it never happened." She nodded slowly, returning to her position. She picked up her beer, examining for a moment, before throwing the majority of it back. Putting it down she made the same face as before, leaned back and closed her eyes.

He just laughed again, taking a swig of his own. With the freedom given by her closed eyes, he looked at her more closely. She was tall and thin, with dark hair and dark eyes, if he remembered correctly. Plain clothes, all fairly well kept and well fitting, rustled as she shifted, lifting her beer to her lips again. Simple and classic, as Kyle had once described his type. She definitely fit the bill.

The only thing slightly out of context was the glinting band around her ring finger. The small diamonds caught the light, sparkling happily. It looked like something Kyle would buy. It wasn't ostentatious but it subtly screamed of money. He was always so conscious to not show off that it often worked the other way, making everything seem like it was 'nothing' no matter the cost. He had never understood how hard it was to not notice, when money was something you didn't have much of. She was definitely Kyle's.

"I'm Kenny, by the way." She grinned, not opening her eyes. The sun played over her long hair. It was so dark it was almost black. The way it seemed to pull the sun in, absorbing it, instead of reflecting it, was...it was-

"Kristen." He sighed, inaudibly, throwing the thought away. Plucking the empty bottle from her fingers, he handed her another one. Being a new comer to South Park, and being introduced as Kyle's fiance...well, she would need all the extra help coping that she could get. She grinned at him, her green eyes flashing brightly in amusement.

"I have heard of you Kenny McCormick. Are you trying to get me drunk?" she asked quietly, jokingly.

"No, not yet. Your fiance is still here." She laughed, leaning back again. He watched as her eyes flitted towards the door, and sounds of loud voices.

They sat in companionable silence for a long time, staring out onto the sleepy little town. Finally the shouts began to fade into raised voices, and finally were silenced completely by the thin walls. Kristen looked towards the door, taking another sip of her beer.

"Are they done?" She asked, looking back towards the blonde boy. "Cause my butt is going numb." He laughed, winking.

"I could help with that." She just raised an eyebrow and nudged him with her foot.

"You touch my ass, and I'll kick yours from here to Africa." Shaking his head, he leaned back, staring woefully at the sky.

"I was just offering to help you in your time of need. But either way, yeah, they are probably done. Now we just wait until Kyle realizes that we're both gone and-"

"KENNY! I swear to _Moses_ if you are molesting my fiance I will break your scrawny little neck!" Grinning he stood, offering her a hand as he did so. She took it, letting him pull her up and to her surprise right into his arms. He leaned it, his nose brushing up against hers.

"You can tell your new around here - no one else would have been silly enough to let me do that." The bedroom door flew open, as a bright light flashed threw Kenny's vision. He fell to the floor, curling into the fetal position pain rocketing from his groin threw every nerve in his body.

"What the fuck woman!" Looking up, he met her irritated eyes.

"The only reason your nuts aren't currently residing in your brain is because you gave me a beer." He struggled to his feet, fighting the urge to grin in amusement.

"Cunt."

"Asshole."

"Bitch."

"Bastard."

"Whore." She shrugged, her eyes flashing in what he was sure was suppressed amusement.

"Wow Kenny, you were just shot down by a whore. That must sting!" He blinked in surprise at her responce, turning away from the argument. His eyes met with Stan's, who was currently leaning against the doorframe behind his glowering redheaded friend. Both of them turned to Kyle.

"You can keep this one." Kyle sighed, rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands, his anger melting away at the blatant idiocy in the room.

"You are both dumb asses," he muttered before crossing the room. "Sorry about them." Kristen slid into his arm comfortable, leaning back against his chest.

"Oh, not a problem. I'm a little bit tipsy, and I took that female self defense class last semester. He seems like a good practice dummy." He kissed her temple gently.

"You are welcome to use Ken as a practice dummy as much as you please." Ignoring the protest from the boy in question he looked up, looking his two friends in the eye. Kenny closed his mouth, looking at the couple carefully. They were comfortable. That was the only way to describe them. She leaned back lightly, his arms wrapped around her waist like it was the most natural state in the world. The subtle tension that he hadn't even noticed before faded from her face and body, and his curled around hers just slightly, protectively. Their hands slipped automatically into the others, and his chin rested gently on her shoulder.

"Guys," Kyle interrupted his thoughts quietly. "Let's try this again. This is my fiance, Kristen. Kristen this is Kenny, and Stan." She smiled, pulling out of his arms, and extending on of hers. His hand remained on her hip, tethering her.

"It's nice to meet you." She smiled, shaking first Stan's hand, then Kenny's after a moments exaggerated hesitation.

"It's nice to meet you too," Stan replied, finally speaking. "Sorry about before."

"Oh, it's fine. You should have seen my cousin's when we told them. I thought they were going to construct a torture chamber, simply to interrogate Kyle." She stepped back, her smile a little bit forced, into the redheads arms again. Silence filled the room awkwardly. Kenny rolled his eyes.

"Oh come on guys. We've been friends since forever, and the chick seems cool. Fuck the awkward stage, let's go grab some dinner, and come back here and get hammered." Kristen giggled, and Kyle looked down at her in surprise. She looked up at him and smiled.

"He's right. Just because I'm here this doesn't have to be some big awkward thing. Plus, I'm starving and you haven't eaten since this morning. I don't need your fainting on me again. I had a hard enough time getting you back to the dorms last time." He raised an eyebrow.

"You didn't do anything, you got the bouncers to do it."

"Well yes, but I had to convince them! That took a whole hell of a lot of persuasion." Glancing over at Kenny, who's mouth was already open she continued. "_No_ Kenny. Just No." His mouth snapped shut in surprise. Stan laughed.

"And that two for Kristen, Kenny zero." Kenny looked around the room, a pout set on his lips. All around him were pitiless grins.

"Screw you guys. I'm going for dinner," he growled, before stalking haughtily out the door. The bedroom was quiet again for a long moment, before Kenny heard laughter explode from the other two boys. He grinned, shoving his feet into his shoes as Kristen asked again, what was so funny.

____ ____

Kenny re-appeared with a sight. He hadn't even finished eating before his chair had collapsed, dropping him onto a very badly positioned fork. It wasn't often that he died anymore, but when he did it was always in some inane, embarrassing way. Satan seemed to see it as a game, killing him off in new and irritating ways.

"What the_ fuck_ are you doing here?" The cold, confident voice snapped from behind him. He turned, shrugging.

"Sorry Cartman. You know I don't get to decide where I come back at. This wouldn't have been my first choice either." The taller man rolled his eyes, stalking around Kenny to his desk.

"You never used to appear outside of South Park, but as soon as I move all of a sudden you start showing up in my condo, my gym, my office building, my restaurants. Fucking gay stalker or some such shit..." He continued to mutter as he slammed desk drawers open, tossing papers around. "Where the fuck is that new contract?"

Kenny leaned up against the desk, watching the brunette from beneath half closed eyes. "Bottom drawer, under the Shimbren file." He was met with a glare.

"If you weren't so god damn good at your job Kenny..."

"Yeah well, I am. If you weren't such an asshole you wouldn't need someone to do all your talking for you." Eric Cartman turned away, reaching into the bottom drawer and grumbling until he pulled out the needed file.

"I'm perfectly good at talking to people, and I can be perfectly pleasant, if I want to be. I just don't have the time, or the patience to deal with those arrogant gaywads who claim to be investors. And why should I, when I can just send you?" Kenny grinned.

"Send me where ever you please, oh mighty writer of the paycheck."

"Fuck you, I don't write a god damn thing. I outsource payroll." He snickered.

"Sometimes I don't know what the hell you actually do Cartman. It just seems like all you ever do is outsource shit to other people, or companies." The brunette looked at him in amusement, flipping through the file.

"You know perfectly well what I do."

"Yeah, nothing that couldn't be done by the investors themselves, or the companies involved for that matter."

"Yes well, I capitalize on human laziness."

"And that isn't your slogan because...?" Eric didn't even look up at him, and answered simply.

"Because you never want to make your customers think that they should be able to be more than they are. If you do, they'll actually strive to be something useful and you won't get paid." Sticking out his tongue immaturely Kenny spun, tossing his feet up on the desk, stretching out across the dark wood. He winced at Eric smacked him across the back of the head, shoving his feet onto the ground again with a thump.

"Fine, be that way. Is there anywhere I need to be in the next while, since I'm hear anyways?" Cartman was already shaking his head.

"No. You're free and clear for another month, short of any emergencies. Beginning of May I need you to head to Ireland for a couple of weeks. There is a dig going on there, and we want to get our hands into whatever comes up. I already have a few investors interested in what they find out. I'll send you the information in a week or so, so you can get familiar with the people and the location. You've already worked with Carlisle. He's the main guy on this dig." Kenny nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Sounds good. I liked him last time; I'm glad he's moving up in the world. He paid for dinner last time we went out."

"Of course, that is why you would like him. You may have a nice apartment and clothes without holes, but you can't take the ghetto out of the boy." Glaring, Kenny tossed a pen at the man's head. A large hand caught it lightly, placing it back into the container on the desk. Raising an eyebrow, Eric moved to another cubourd, shuffling through yet more files. The rustle of papers was the only noise for a long time.

"Hows the art exhibit in New York going?" Cartman laughed.

"Which one? I have six out there right now, and five in LA. Katrina threatened to have my head if I add anything else to her department." Punching the brunette lightly in the shoulder, the blonde rolled his eyes.

"You know perfectly well which one I mean dude." Brown eyes glanced away. "It's going fine. Better than I expected actually. We'll see how it goes."

"Cool. So if you don't need me, I want to head back home. Kyle dropped a bombshell, and I don't want Stan to do anything too retarded." He wandered over to the far wall, examining the photographs sitting there. Train tracks; how nostalgic.

"I don't know why you insist on babysitting those two. You could just move out here. It would be much more convenient than flying back and forth every couple of weeks."

"Dude. We've had this argument before. No. I'm not moving out here. South Park is the only place where if I get run down by a car they aren't going to sue the driver. I'm not going to cause a panic in a city this big. It wouldn't be worth the trouble." He watched as Cartman shrugged.

"Fine." He glanced up from the file, flopping ungracefully into the black chair behind his desk. "So what is this bombshell the Jew is dropping this time? He's coming out of the closet finally?" Kenny turned back towards his friend, grinning.

"No, just the opposite actually. He's getting married." Cartman blinked, jaw dropping slightly. "Wow, the great Eric Cartman speechless. I'm impressed."

"Shut up peasant. I just- huh. I suppose that it had to happen eventually. How is Stan taking it?"

"Oh, horribly. Obviously. You know how jealous he is of anyone who takes Kyle's attention. I've never decided if I actually believed he was gay or not; he sure does act it." He scratched his chin absently. It was definitely time to shave again.

"I guess I'm taking a few days off then." It was his turn to freeze, and turn to his friend. Eric never took personal days aside from his mother's birthday, and Christmas.

"What?" He gapped, unsure what was going on.

"Obviously I'm flying back to Colorado with you. I have to meet the broad who managed to snatch up one of the dynamic gaywads. Plus my mother has been bothering me to come visit again." He jabbed a finger down on the intercom on his desk. "Mark? I'm taking a few days off. Pass all calls that can't wait on to my cell phone, and tell Katrina to grow a pair and deal with her petty little problems on her own. That's why I hired her. I also need to plane tickets to Denver Colorado."

"No problem Boss man." The voice came threw clearly on the small speaker. "Hi Kenny." Kenny grinned at Mark's impertinence. The little intern turned personal assistant was one of the most irritatingly efficient and unflappable humans he had ever met. He had watched him get crushed by a falling boulder in the middle of a city street and before Cartman had turned to explain he had lawyers, a funeral home, and the 911 operator on conference call.

"So it's back to the hick town for the big city slicker?" he asked, grinning as he watched the other man toss papers into his briefcase, muttering to himself.

"Shut up. You're getting a free plane ticket, don't push it." Kristen had managed to get one up on him, Kyle, and Stan but Cartman was an entity in himself. It should be interesting.


	2. Confusion

Kenny pushed the key into the lock, shouldering his way into his home. He and Cartman had split paths at the door of his house, while the bigger man had made his way to his mother's.

"Honey, I'm home!" he called to the empty hallways. The silence echoed back in it's own kind of greeting. He dropped his spare key on the counter, mentally reminding himself to put it back under the porch. There was nothing more frustrating than having to break into your own house because when you died your keys got lost in the shuffle, and you left your spare key in the house. Kenny didn't even bother to take a set of keys with him anymore.

Making his way to the kitchen, he threw open the fridge door.

"Damn it, I forgot to buy milk," he muttered to himself, grabbing the carton of orange juice and throwing a mouthful back. He turned, glancing at his phone as he did so. He frowned at the flashing red light. Who had left a message? They guys would just call whenever they wanted to do something, and if he didn't answer they just went on without him, assuming he hadn't reappeared yet. Five minutes later he had finally figured out the right combination of buttons to work the damn voice mail on his phone and was listening to the irritating female voice asking for his password. Punching it in he heard Kyle's voice talking in the background quietly. Obviously he was talking to someone on the other end.

"Look relax, I'll leave a message. He's fine, I promise." His volume increased suddenly as he began his message. "Hey Ken, Kristen is freaking because you died and won't believe me that you'll come back. She thinks I'm being a heartless bastard for not calling the cops and planning your funeral. Dude, I don't have the money for a funeral. Please call me when you get this before she drains my bank account." Kenny laughed as the annoying voice returned, and hung up. He had forgotten about that - that most people actually cared if they saw someone die.

He had been in South Park way too long.

Picking up the phone he realized that Kyle hadn't left his number, and he was pretty certain he wasn't living at home. If he had taken Kristen home already, Kenny was fairly sure he would have heard the 'What, what, what?'s from hell. Dialing Stan's number he hopped up on his counter, leaning against the wooden cupboards as he listened to the ring tone.

"Hey, this is Stan. I can't come-" He hung up with a frustrated sigh. Of course Stan wasn't answering his phone. He jumped off the counter, grabbing an apple from the basket beside him and grabbing his keys he walked back out the front door. As he hopped down his steps he tossed his keys into the bushes, before turning left down the sidewalk. It had snowed at some point while he was gone, and he stomped a fresh path through the new inches of white powder. The horizon blended seamlessly into the white sky, filled with dingy clouds.

'How wonderful,' he groused to himself. 'Yet more snow.'

As he made his way up to Stan's apartment he glanced at his watch. Stan got off work at four, and it was currently quarter after. He should have just gotten home, or would be soon anyways. Jogging up the stairs to the third floor, the blonde peeled off his black wool jacket. After the cold air outside the stairwell was like a sauna. He wandered down the cramped hallway, stopping in front of the familiar door.

Rapping on the plain wood, he waited, leaning against the doorframe. He hunted absently through his pockets for the package of gum he had bought the other day, but came up short, growling under his breath in irritation. He looked up at the door again when there continued to be no answer. Sighing he pulled a credit card out from his wallet, wiggling it between the door and the frame. After a long moment he heard a gentle click and the door swung open. No one in South Park bothered with decent locks, so more often than not, a credit card worked better than the actual key.

He walked into the living room as Stan came around the corner from where he'd obviously been taking a shower. He jumped slightly, glaring at Kenny.

"What the fuck dude? Knock, damn it. I hate it when you sneak into my place." Kenny stuck his tongue out.

"Well if you would answer your phone, or your door when I do knock I wouldn't have to." Stan rolled his eyes.

"What do you want Ken?" A flash of hurt pulsed through the blondes chest at the abrupt dismissal of any casual conversation. Kyle was definitely back.

"What?" he asked flippantly, biting into his apple for the first time. "I'm not allowed to come hang out anymore, now that your wifey is back?" A glare was his only response.

"Holy dude, relax. Sorry for breathing. Just give me Kyle number, or address, or whatever and I'll get out of your hair," he snapped. Stan looked at him curiously, rubbing his head with the yellow towel.

"Why do you need it?"

"What, I'm not allowed to visit _him_ either?" Kenny could feel his temper flaring and shoved down on his instinct to storm out of the small apartment. "Apparently Kristen is freaking because I died and Kyle didn't leave a number of my answering machine." Stan's mood changed abruptly and he laughed.

"True enough. She completely freaked. Kyle had to wrestle her phone away to keep her from calling 911. She isn't scared of rats though, as a side note. She booted a good number of them when they showed up. He took her home right after that and ditched because she was having a panic attack." He grinned, looking to Kenny to join in his amusement.

"Well no shit. She's probably never seen someone bleed out before. Just because your used to it doesn't mean she is." Stan frowned at his apathetic answer, shrugging.

"Yeah I guess." He grabbed a piece of off of his fridge and scribbled an address on it. "You should probably go in person. She won't necessarily trust the phone." Kenny nodded absently, already on his way out the door.

"Thanks, see ya later." Kenny growled deep in his throat as he stomped through the snow towards the new address. Stan was one fickle bitch. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a long moment as he slowed to a stop on the sidewalk.

He had known this was going to happen. He knew that once Kyle was back, Stan wouldn't need him anymore as a replacement Kyle. He could go back to ghosting in their lives and they would go back to being Super Best Friends. Shaking his head he sighed. It wasn't fair to Stan to want him to be his friend first. He wasn't even particularly real and watching your best friend die in a multitude of ways, even if you were used to it, probably sucked. Opening his eyes he continued forward.

Whatever. It was all fine.

Kenny started at the long board of buttons, hunting for something to point him to the apartment number Stan had, of course, forgotten to add.

"Alder, S., Beforniak, C., Brovlowsky K. and K." he murmured running his finger down the rows. He raised his eyebrows. Either that was an amazing coincidence or they were getting a little ahead of themselves. Pushing the small white button Kenny waited, shifting his weight back and forth impatiently.

"Hello?" The blurred voice came through the small speaker, dragging his head back to the buttons.

"Hey Kyle. It's me, Kenny. You wanted to see me?"

"Yup, come on up." He heard the relief in the mans voice as he was beeped into the building. He jogged up the small staircase to the second floor, wandering down the ugly orange hallway. At the far end, near another door labeled staircase, he stopped, knocking lightly. The door swung open immediately and Kyle smiled brilliantly, waving him in.

"Thank god you got back so quick dude. I thought I was going to have to lock her in the bathroom to keep her from stabbing _me_ with a fork." Kenny grinned back at the good natured red head. While he and Kyle had never been super close, they were always on good terms, and he appreciated that the way Kyle treated him never changed. His temper flared up wonderfully, but he was equally short with everyone. It didn't matter who you were, if you pissed him off he would let you know.

"Thank Satan dude. God had nothing to do with it this time." Kyle rolled his eyes, waving towards what Kenny assumed was the living room. A dark couch sat, buried in boxes, tape, and newspaper.

"Make yourself at home, as much as you can in this disaster. She's unpacking in the bedroom, I'll get her." Kenny nodded absently, staring out the big picture window. It was almost like a painting, with the small houses lined up and down, peaking out of the snow. You didn't get this view from a house, or from Stan's tiny windows in his box of an apartment. South Park looked almost normal as he wandered threw the maze of packing materials.

"Kenny?" A shocked voice spun him around as he grinned, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Hey Kristen. How's it going? I hear you missed me terribly." She stared at him in shock, and to his surprise a little bit of fear.

"What the fuck are you?" she demanded, her face morphing from a glare, to shock, to fear, to relief, and back around the cycle again. She stepped forward hesitantly as Kyle walked silently up behind her. He stood back, meeting Kenny's eyes momentarily.

They both knew this was an important moment. Kristen would never manage in their little town if something like this set her off. Kenny looked back into the confused green eyes and shrugged casually.

"Kenny. Beyond that, who the fuck knows." She walked forward cautiously, raising a hand to his chest. It froze, centimeters from his shirt as she bit her lip. He smiled gently, grasping her hand lightly and pressing it to his shoulder.

"I..." Speechless she looked up at him again, all the previous emotions washed away in her confusion. As blue eyes met green Kenny felt suddenly heavy. He could feel the world under his feet and for the first time since he could remember he felt grounded. She continued to stare at him, _at him_. He had become so used to being a little bit outside of everyone's world that to have someone so utterly convinced that he was indeed standing there, to have someone's complete attention focused on the very question of his existence-

"Does it hurt?" She asked quietly, breaking him free of his thoughts.

"What? Your hand?" He frowned at the odd question.

"No. Dying." Her eyes flitted down towards her hand as it clenched slightly beneath his, grasping the fabric of his white shirt.

"It depends on how fast I die," he replied simply. "That one hurt, because it takes longer to bleed out than to break your neck, or whatever else." She nodded absently, her breath coming quicker. She leaned closer to him and he froze as her mouth brushed his neck, his heart stopping at the contact. His confusion ended quickly as she collapsed towards the ground. He grabbed her around the waist, lowering her down as Kyle ran forward. He stood back as the redhead pressed his hand to her face gently.

"Kristen? Love, hey, come on. Now isn't time for a nap," Kyle's gentle voice surprised him, the softness in his tone unusual. "Ken? Can you grab a glass of water? There should be some random cups by the sink." He nodded, making his way out as Kyle continued to murmur to the girl.

He grabbed a cup off the counter, pausing. He flexed his toes absently, feeling the weight of gravity pulling down on him. Filling the cup up with cool water her heard Kristen talking quietly back to the other man as she woke. His name slipped through the doorway, slipping into his chest with a twinge. Maybe, if he could convince her that he was real, it would be easier to convince himself.

___ ___

He reached up, stretching long arms towards the clear blue sky. The cold air pulsed through his body and he smiled at the familiar ache in his chest. Who needed cigarettes when you lived in a mountain town? The air was just as harsh.

Pulling his orange hood up over his head he pushed off of the front step, jogging smoothly down the sidewalk. The pavement was jarring beneath his feet, and he pushed harder, faster. He slid comfortably into his normal rhythm making his way down the thin streets, past the familiar houses and stores. He glanced up at the small apartment building as he past it, seeing a familiar red head wander past the window.

Things were actually changing, something he had never expected this small town was capable of. He could feel the tension growing, flowing through the streets. It was amazing what one small girl could bring into peoples lives, and how much change what she brought could bring along with it. The pretty brunette was still a secret of sorts in town. She hadn't hit the gossip stream yet, but chances were after dinner with Kyle's parents tonight, South Park would be buzzing.

He stretched his hands above his head again as he ran, stretching out his back. He heard a quiet pop and rolled his shoulder at the release. While he came back from hell completely healed, there were mental reminders to contend with. You couldn't die that many times without your mind becoming convinced that something should be wrong with you. The chronic stress in his back, and the pain in his shoulders was something that would probably never go away, even if he actually managed to keep from dying.

The best thing would probably be to see a psychiatrist about his ghost pains. But he would probably end up in the room with the white padded walls if he went to any decent psychiatric advisor with his stories about dying and hell. The only other option would be Mr. Mackey, and that wasn't an option at all.

'Don't do drugs, m'kay?' was not the answer he needed in this case.

It would be nice to talk to someone, who wouldn't either panic, or shrug it off as unimportant. When he had hesitantly raised the subject with Stan, he had only shrugged, reminding Kenny that it was okay, because he would come back if he died of a pain killer overdose.

He was just such a part of this small town that no one would notice if he died daily. And chances are they wouldn't notice if he disappeared for good. They would just assume that he would get back eventually and if he didn't well - by the time they realized that, they would be beyond the point of grieving. In a way it was nice to know that his death, his true death, wouldn't hurt anyone but at the same time the idea that there would be no funeral, and no one who cared enough to cry was painful in itself. The idea of being forgotten haunted him just like he, in his own little way, haunted his little town. He wasn't really part of the world, and he couldn't be.

Not in South Park.

As he looped past the old apartment building again he heard the front door click shut. A small green hoody jogged down the small sidewalk. The matching green eyes met his, and she smiled in greeting. Well then. He had thought no one else was stupid enough to wake up this damned early in the morning to run in the frigid air. As he made his way past, she fell in beside him. He saw her make a face as she took her first real breathe and slowed his pace slightly. She wasn't used to the air or the altitude and he had no intentions of carrying a half dead girl back to her temperamental fiance. He had caught her while fainting once, and he definitely did not plan on making a habit of it.

Not that she was heavy or anything. She actually had a very pleasant warm weight pressed up against him as he caught her. And a warm, clean smell.

He listened to her uneven breathes as he ran, his mind slowly drifting back into the normal quiet place he had when he ran. Two sets of runners hit the pavement simultaneously, ringing down the street's silence. Snow crunched beneath them, and the wind slipped into the gaps in his sweater, cooling his heated skin.

Sighing happily he pushed harder, unthinking. It took him a moment to realize she was still beside him, her breath now calm and rhythmic. He had never run with someone else.

It was nice.

_Hey all! So, I know it's a little bit late, but it is up and running! I'm going to try and update once a week, as much as I can. Let me know what you think. I love reviews, and critique!_

_Miric  
_


	3. Denial

"He's a jackass," Kyle stated bluntly, interrupting Stan's explanation of their heavyset friend. Kenny snorted. That was something that would never change; The Jew versus The Mastermind of All Evil.

It really wasn't fair that Kyle's title was so unimpressive, but that's just the way it goes sometimes. Kristen grabbed Kyle's hand, wrapping it around her waist. He looked down at her, the sour look on his face fading into a smile. She grinned, kissing him lightly.

"Relax Kyle. It'll be fine. If he is that horrible, why would we even be going to supper with him? Obviously you like his company in some way." He muttered under his breath as Kenny pushed the door of the restaurant open, allowing the others to pass by. He was fairly certain he heard something about 'masochistic tendencies' as the redhead passed him. He smirked, shaking his head. Cartman may be an asshole, but he was an amusing one, and it kept Kyle on his toes. There was always a surprise, when it came to those two. Kenny let the door swing shut, as he realized he'd been left behind. Jogging passed the hostess he slipped into the small conference room beside Stan and blinked in surprise as the rest of his body froze.

Kristen pulled back from the hug, grinning ear to ear. Cartman, to Kenny's eternal shock was also grinning down at the brunette.

"You are such a dirty liar Theo. Eric. Whatever your name actually is." Kristen laughed as she pulled away. Kenny glanced over at Kyle who looked like he may collapse. All three of the other men grasped onto anything to keep them standing as Cartman laughed as well.

"So sorry Kristen, I didn't realize it would come back and bite me in the ass. How the hell did you end up in South Park?"

"I should ask the same thing, except now I know Eric. I'm here to meet the last of the friends-" She ignored Kyle's stuttered protest, "-of my fiance." Caramel brown eyes widened.

"YOU are his fiance? What were you thinking Kris? The crazy little jew boy isn't anyone's idea of a good husband. I told you, you should just marry me and be done with it." A strange sound exploded from Kyle, and all four of the others turned to face the paler than normal redhead. Kristen covered her giggle with her hand, sliding back into Kyle's arms.

"Maybe I like crazy little jew boys." She kissed the ridged boy gently. She seemed even more amused by his lack of response. "They're cute when they're flustered." Cartman laughed again.

"If I had known that all it would take to completely destroy Kyle mentally was to propose to his girlfriend, I would have hunted you down years ago." Kristen pushed gently on Kyle's chin, shutting his mouth.

"Oh you never mean it, and you know it. You've got your own pretty little red head." She nuzzled her head into her fiances neck, wrapping her arms around him. He continued to stare down at her, his arms automatically wrapping around her as well.

"What. The. Hell?" Stan's voice choked from the side of the room. Cartman glanced at him, his smile melting into his normal passive expression.

"Well, we've stood about for far too long. Come on, sit. I'm starving." Kenny slid into an open chair, brushing off his surprise. There was always something. You learned to roll with the punches in this town.

"You're always starving fat ass," he commented good naturedly, opening his menu. Eric didn't even bother to reply, just rolling his eyes and finding a seat beside the thin blonde. Stan hesitantly sat on Kenny's other side, while Kristen led Kyle gently into the empty seat beside his dark haired friend. Slipping into the chair beside him, she casually glanced through her menu, humming happily to herself.

Finally after a long moment Kyle blinked once, shaking himself slightly. He turned to meet her green eyes as she looked up in amusement.

"How the hell do you know Cartman?" He asked, his voice still ladened with shock. She shrugged, flipping to the entrees section of the menu.

"We took dance lessons together in Toronto a few years back, and kept in contact. He told me his name was Theodore. Apparently that isn't the case." Eric leaned back in his chair comfortably.

"Yes it is. Theodore is my middle name. I hate giving out my full name to people when it isn't business. They always end up after me for money. Or sex. Or both." Kristen snorted.

"Right. Because obviously I'm a whore. What is it with your friends and deciding I have sex for money? I mean, you aren't rich enough to keep me on permanently if that was the case." Kyle choked, bursting into a coughing fit, while Kenny burst out laughing. Eric smiled, his eyes lit in amusement.

"Apparently I don't need to propose to you to torture Broflowsky through you. You do it all on your own. I knew there was a reason I kept in touch with you." Kristen beamed at him proudly, while absently patting her fiance on the back.

Kenny shook his head, still snickering to himself. He watched contentedly as the interactions continued, much to Kyle's dismay. Kristen and Cartman obviously got along fabulously, and this was a side of Eric that Kyle had never seen. The bigger man could be very charming when he put his mind to it. He turned to look at the silent member of their group and frowned. He slumped back in his chair, glaring at his pasta. He stabbed at it listlessly, none of it making it's way to his mouth. Kenny watched as he glanced up at the vibrant couple before redoubling his efforts to burn a hole in the table with his eyes. Stan had been off the entire afternoon, but this was taking it to a whole new level.

"Dude," he caught Stan's attention quietly. Blue eyes snapped up to meet his, the glare washing off his face. "Yeah"

"What's up with you? You look like someone killed your best friend." Stan glanced over at Kristen and Kyle again, his lips tightening. He sighed lightly before turning back to Kenny.

"No, Dude, I'm fine. Just not hungry." Kenny nodded slowly, his attention sliding back to the conversation. Apparently they had made it to the part of the evening where the insults began to fly.

Kyle and Cartman spat out insult after insult as Kristen looked on, a brilliant smile covering her face. He felt his worry melt, and the corners of his lips lifting. Her smile was...infectious.

* * *

"Well that was quite the surprise yesterday." Kristen laughed, pulling the earbud out of her ear that was closest to Kenny.

"I know. Of all the people I expected to see here, he was definitely at the bottom of my list. I can't believe that he is _that_ Eric Cartman. It's hilarious." Kenny joined in her laughter, their pace never slowing. He grinned as he looked forward to where he could see the street lightly slowly turning off as the sun began to rise. The colors of the sky washed the houses in a pale pink light and he stretched happily.

"So, you guys met while _dancing_?" he asked, attempting to imagine Cartman dancing. He may have dropped the baby fat that had plagued him since childhood, but he wasn't really all that graceful.

"Yup. He had some big corporate dance thingy that he wanted to be ready for. The teacher paired us off, and we hit it off. I don't see him all that often; only when he's in town for business. But we talk a fair bit through emails and whatnot. Actually when I first told him I was engaged he told me he knew a douche of a Kyle from the town he was from." She laughed. "I guess I'm marrying that douche." Kenny laughed with her.

"So why were you taking the class?" he asked curiously. "I thought you were in music, or nursing...or something." She coughed, slowing slightly, her pace staggering.

"You okay?" he asked, concern written all over his face. She nodded, taking huge breathes of air. "You need to stop?" Her quick glare shut him up, and he remained silent as she readjusted to the pace, her breathing smoothing out.

"I'm fine, just have a bit of a cough. Anyways dance class. Um..." He glanced over at her, a gentle smile slipping onto his lips at how damn cute she was when she frowned in concentration. He growled mentally, snapping his head forward. Not Cute.

Not Attractive.

Dirt Ugly.

Ugly as dirt.

Ugly as dirt fiance of his friend.

"I guess I started because, well, I'm pretty awful at meeting people. So I figured taking some kind of group class might kinda force me to it." He looked at her incredulously.

"You? Bad at meeting people? You didn't seem all that nervous when we met." She smiled, shaking her head.

"I was fucking terrified. Especially when Stan and Kyle went off like that. I was so scared you guys would hate me." She drooped slightly. "I think I managed one out of two anyways."

"Come on, Stan doesn't hate you." The argument sounded forced in his own ears and she rolled her eyes.

"Maybe not hate, but he's definitally not my biggest fan."

"Maybe give him some more time."

"I don't think that will make a difference."

"True." Giving up defending his idiot friend he watched as the sun slipped up past the last rooftop into the blue sky. He slid quickly into his own little quiet space, the only sound the quiet music coming from Kristen's headphones. So it came as a surprise when she broke the silence again.

"It's okay. I'm kind of used to it. I've never really been part of a group. I kind of suck at people. I have a bunch of really good friends, but I get really paranoid when I'm in groups. Plus...most people are stupid." That surprised a laugh from the blonde.

"How so?"

"They are all drama drama about every little thing. It pisses me off." She rolled her eyes. Glancing over at him she tilted her head. "I think that's why me and Theo-Eric get along."

"What about you? What kinda friends do you have hanging about?" He shrugged, looking away.

"Mostly just Stan, Kyle, and Cartman. I see Leo around occasionally but not too often anymore. I'm not really a people person."

"Really?" He glanced at her again, confused by her surprise. "You seem like such a ... likable person. You're so laid back and funny." He felt a blush creeping up over his cheeks. She didn't seem to notice, jumping lightly over a small bump in the sidewalk.

"No, I've just never really...fit in." She slowed, grabbing his hand. Tingles shot up his arm, and once again the ground felt more real beneath his feet as he slowed to a stop.

"Why not?" she asked, concern written all over her face. He shrugged.

"Dunno, just didn't." He pulled his hand out of her casually, turning to run again. He stopped short as her next question filled the silence.

"It's because of the dying thing, isn't it?" His laugh was short, and sarcastic.

"Well yeah. I'm not exactly normal. Dying randomly isn't exactly a drawing category." She shrugged.

"Dying is perfectly normal. It's the coming back part that is a little odd." He rolled his eyes, his chest tightening.

"Thanks for the clarification there."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to be flippant. But...It's true. We all know our friends are going to die, but at least with you we know we get a second chance."

"Yeah and by the time I die you won't even give a shit, because you'd be so used to it. It's a nice little anti-pain mechanism. Perfect in a friend." Understanding lit up her face.

"You think no one will care when your gone. So you don't want to be friends with them because if you don't know them, you won't care if they won't care." He glared at her, spinning on his heel. He took off away from the girl, and from the truth.

"Shut up," he muttered.

"No." He jumped, stumbling over a block of ice as her voice appeared from beside him. She grabbed his arm, warm hands pulling him up. He yanked his arm away from her and continued to run silently as her apartment block came into view. She slowed, looking away.

"I'd care," she muttered. "If you died, I mean." Kenny felt his heart stop, but he continued running as she turned down her drive. He bit the inside of his cheek, fighting against the rush that came from her words.  
"I really wish you wouldn't," he whispered, making his way towards his empty home.

* * *

Kenny started, dropping the plate of food when the doorbell rang. He was always jumpy lately, fighting to keep his mind in appropriate places.

He couldn't deny that he was attracted to Kristen, or that he thought she was an awesome person to hang out with. But he could deny that it had any real merit beyond any other little crushes he had had before. There was a reason he wasn't in a relationship. It wasn't that he couldn't get anyone, it was that it wasn't fair to them. It wasn't fair to keep dying in front of them.  
And it wasn't fair to him to see them cringe every time he showed up, unsure of if it was moral or not to date a zombie of sorts.

But Kristen was-

"Shit!" He quickly shoved the sandwich back onto the plate, swearing to himself the entire time. He threw the plate onto the table beside the couch, sliding across the wooden floor to the door. He yanked it open, about the ream out the sales man standing on his step, when quiet green eyes met his.

"Kristen." He stated in surprise. She grinned weakly up at him.

"Hey Kenny," she greeted quietly. He moved to the side, waving her into his home wordlessly, mentally stomping down on his previous thoughts. There was no way he could let her read any of that on his face. "Sorry for bothering you. You aren't busy are you?" Her voice carried an odd tone to it, hiding under the carelessness.

"No, just having lunch. What brings you out here?" A small hand ran through her hair as she looked around the small home curiously. They had run by it before, and he had absently pointed it out, but they had never actually entered. To be honest he couldn't remember the last time any of his friends had dropped by his place. He was always the one over at Stan's, and Cartman just sent a courier. Or a plane. He quietly helped her remove her jacket, hanging it up neatly in the front closet.

"Oh, just needed to get out of the apartment for a while. I thought I'd come visit." He nodded, grabbing his destroyed sandwich off the table and heading to the kitchen. That odd tone was still there, wrapping her words in a curious kind of way. She followed him silently as he tossed the sandwich into the trash and began digging the ingredients out of the fridge.

"Are you hungry?" He saw her shake her head out of the corner of the eye. She stood quietly in the doorway, green eyes glancing around nervously. He had started noticing that every time she was stressed out, she would begin to clench and unclench her hands, as they were absently doing now. He had asked about it at one point during their now daily morning runs, and she had answered that she had never actually noticed she did it before.

He dumped the meat and cheese onto the counter grasping her wrist gently, he led her to the island in the center of the kitchen, pulling out a chair for her. "Take a seat." She did so, smiling up at him. Her body relaxed finally, and she tucked her foot under her other leg, leaning forward on his counter.

"Thanks." He stopped, leaning against the island. His brow furrowed, as she looked at him nervously.

"What's wrong?" he demanded gently, crossing his arms.

"Nothing," she muttered, glancing away. He grabbed her chin lightly, pulling her eyes back to meet his own. His breath caught as green orbs met blue and he realized how close their face truly were. He pulled his hand away sharply, swallowing.

"Obviously something is wrong. You aren't that good of a liar." She pursed her lips, glaring at the marble countertop.

"What did Kyle do now?" She laughed lightly, before sighing and putting her chin in her hands, leaning against the counter.  
"Nothing really. He and Stan are just having it out in our kitchen again. I didn't want to sit around and listen to them fight about stupid shit again." He grabbed a chair, flopping into it.

"Again?" he asked curiously. He had seen the pair duel it out before, but it tended to be pretty rare.

"It seems like all they do is battle it out, every time their alone together. And typically I end up having to tip toe around the apartment to avoid getting pulled into it."

"What are they fighting about?"

"Stupid shit. It'll start out about what we're having for lunch, then end up in some stupid debate about about why Kyle won't eat pork, which of course somehow leads to arguments about how hypocritical they both are and..." she trailed off in irritation. "I thought they were good friends, but all I ever see them do, is fight." Kenny looked down at the loaf of bread in his hands.

Those two had always been inseparable. Nothing had ever been able to come between them, and if there was a fight, they would always be on the same side. If all of a sudden there was a change in 20 years of behavior, there had to be a new element. He looked up at the small brunette who was now running her hands absently through the grouting of his counter, tracing the grid. South Park had faced giant rodents, terrorists, Eric Cartman, and everything else imaginable but this girl, this one girl had somehow managed to change everything. She had become close with the psychotic megalomanic, though to be honest he wasn't quite so bad anymore. She had separated the two people Kenny had never expected to be split apart. She had survived in the elementary school for three months, and she wasn't insane yet.

That last one had been a major surprise. The school was always hunting for teachers, as the dead toll and insanity plea rate was through the roof. When a fully functional music teacher had dropped right into their laps, the school board had quickly snapped her up, giving her the position. He was pretty sure Kyle's mom had something to do with that.

He watched her in wonder, as she bit gently on a broken nail, pulling it off. She was so normal looking, but there was obviously something hidden in there. Like...South Park's kryptonite. She managed to defeat the craziness of this small town somehow. His hand slipped forward unconsciously brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. If she could defeat the craziness of the rest of the town, maybe she could - his mind screeched to a halt, and his hand froze where it was, trapped in her hair. She looked at him oddly, unsure.

"It will be fine. Obviously Stan just isn't used to not having Kyle all to himself." He patted the back of her head awkwardly and she giggled, swatting his hand away.

"Ken, you are so odd." He smiled back at her.

He was odd just like everything else in this little town - but she was amazing. He pushed those thoughts away, smiling at her again.

"So what do you want my dear? As you are here, I must feed you. Peanut butter? Ham? Chicken?" She rolled her eyes, still grinning.

"Anything but the ham, obviously. I'm not too picky." He pulled the chicken out of the fridge, tossing it on the counter.

"What, you don't like it? It's like...gods first choice of meat!" He turned to face her at her short laugh.

"Depends on which God you worship I suppose." He frowned in confusion at her raised eyebrow, before the obvious clicked.

"You're Jewish." She chuckled, nodding. "Great deduction Sherlock. You figured that one out all on your own?" He turned wordlessly back to the counter, grabbing the bread and the bread knife.

Well of course Kyle would marry a little jewish girl. He had his insane mother to placate and if he had even thought of marrying outside of the faith she would have a fit. It just wasn't something that had ever clicked when he had talked to her, and-

"Shit!" He dropped the knife, shoving his hand beneath the tap and turning to cold water on full blast. He heard the screech of a chair being shoved back, and as he continued to swear as the blood ran from his hand he heard Kristen scramble to his side. She stuck her head around his shoulder, gasping at the deep cut on his hand. She yanked it out of the water, grabbing the dish towel from the rack. She folded it briskly pressing it tightly over the cut.

"Hold that there," she told him curtly. "Do you have any first aid supplies?" He nodded. "In the bathroom down the hall." She shoved him towards a chair, and pushed him down with a glare.

"Don't you dare die." With that she spun out of the kitchen, running towards the bathroom. A small smile played on his lips as he watched her go. The last girl that had told him that, was the little girl he had fallen for in elementary school on that idiotic tour with that Gay Kid's Choir. Everyone else knew he would be back and just let him die. Not that this would kill him. If there was anything he knew, it was fatal injuries, and this was nowhere close. He winced as he shifted his hand. Not that this didn't hurt like a bitch.

He heard her swearing as there was a loud crash in the bathroom. He began to stand, calling out her name.

"Don't you DARE get up Kenneth. I will be right there." His body followed the command before his brain could connect to the motion. The girl could be vicious when she wanted to be.

"Don't call me Kenneth," he muttered to himself as she slid back into the kitchen, her hands full of gauze and bandages.

"Let me see." Her hands pulled the clothe off his wounded hand gently, in stark contrast to her hard voice. Quickly and efficiently she splashed the wound with peroxide before wiping it down gently. He watched her intent face as she placed the cotton pad over the cut, wrapping his hand in gauze tightly. "You don't need stitches. It's just in a bad spot." He could see the tension in her eyes, and body, but not once did she pull too hard on the gauze. As she ripped a piece of tape off of the roll she had brought, his painful grimace melted slowly. Her fingers were warm on his, and he could smell vanilla in the air around her. She released his hand, but he left it in hers as she stared at the stark white bandage. Her lower lip disappeared as she bit it, her breathing catching. He placed his good hand lightly on her cheek, worry flooding through him.

"Hey, hey. What's wrong?" She glared at him, her frown wobbly. He could see the tears welling up in her eyes. His eyes widened in surprise. "Hey, it's okay, I'm fine." She hiccuped lightly, a tear escaping her green eyes to splash onto the bandage. He pulled her into a hug as she fought against the tears, the occasional additional hiccup escaping despite her best efforts. "Kristen, it's fine. It was just a cut." She nodded into his shoulder, her breathing finally slowing as she relaxed into his arms.

Resting his cheek on her hair he took a deep breath. She fit into his arms comfortably, naturally. He felt her tense suddenly, pulling out of his arms. She stepped back awkwardly as he stared at her, smiling at him weakly.

"Sorry Ken," she muttered. "I just...It's weird." His heart clenched at her description. "It's still hard to get that image out of my head..." Oh. Right. When he died. He nodded absently, rubbing his cheek where her head had previously been.

"It's fine, it's natural. The way people here act is the odd way. I'm sorry I scared you." As the gauze caught slightly on the stubble on his face, he pushed back the thought of shaving and inspected the wrap. "You did a really good job with this." She smiled, turning to grab the bloody knife on the counter.

"Thanks. I took a lot of first aid courses and stuff a couple years back. I was looking to become a nurse actually." She dumped the knife in the sink, covering it in soap before running the hot water over it. His eyes followed her without his permission, watching her long limbs as she moved around his kitchen.

"Why didn't you?" She laughed slightly, as she scrubbed the serrated blade with a cloth she had found.

"I just decided that music was really what I loved. Obviously though the classes didn't go to waste."

"I guess I'll just have to keep you around all the time, in case I get hurt." She turned to face him, her eyes filled with an odd emotion he couldn't really place.

"Oh, cause that's such a hardship. You're fun to hang with." She grinned at him, her eyes melting into their normal warm contentment. "And it's not like I really know anyone else around this town except Stan. And well...I don't think he'd appreciate me wandering into his place to hang out." Kenny didn't respond, unsure of what to say. It definitely wasn't that he hadn't noticed the subtle tension - who was he kidding, there was more tension between Stan and Kristen than between Kyle and Cartman and it was definitely all one sided. Stan avoided any and all contact with the girl besides the bare minimum, and when they did talk it was stilted and painful to watch. Only a blind man couldn't see the aura of awkward that surrounded the two.

On which note, he should probably mention to Kyle to get his eyes checked. If the redhead had noticed the tension he wasn't making any move to improve it, or to acknowledge it.

"Oh well. I guess your stuck with me Kenny." He grinned at her, jumping off his chair.

"Well I suppose I can handle that. But I am going to finish making my sandwich, because I'm starving. Move over sister!" Kristen grabbed his hand as he reached toward s the knife with a pained expression on her face. His fingers tingled oddly as she squeezed it gently.

"Why don't we go out for lunch? I'll pay." He snickered, ignoring the feeling and pulling his hand away casually.

"Cool, sounds good. Now I know how to bum a free meal; slice my hand open." He continued to chuckle as she smacked him upside the back of the head and made his way to the front door.

"You suck Kenny."

"You do realize that they have knives at restaurants too, right?"

"You _suck_ Kenny."

* * *

_Another Chapter up! Woop! _

_So, finally it's starting to get a little interesting. I'm super excited for the next chapter, because something finally actually happens. I've just finished writing up the last chapter (I never write stories in order:P) and I'm rather liking it. _

_So, tell me what you think so far:) I love feedback, and I love knowing that you are actually out there, and that I'm not just typing to myself!_

_Miric  
_


	4. Understanding

He pushed the door open hesitantly, glancing around.

"Kris?" He called quietly. Listening for an answer he followed the sound of muffled music to the bathroom door. He could hear the shower running and the radio blasting.

" -The day I turned to you, and said I didn't like the way he was looking at you." The female voice that sang along to the song was unfamiliar. "You just couldn't get what I was saying. It was my imagination." Strong and rich it echoed the well known song.

"So do you believe me now? I guess I wasn't really that crazy. And I knew what I was talkin' bout. Every time the sun goes down, he's the one who's calling you baby. And me I'm missing you-" Kenny snickered, leaning against the wall to listen. Suddenly the singing stopped and the shower faded into a rhythmic drip. The radio dimmed until he could hear the gentle humming beneath it and the click of the door as it opened.

"Holy Fuck!" Kristen grasped at the top of her towel, pulling it tighter around her body.

"What the hell Kenny!" He grinned at her furious expression.

"Well, you didn't show up this morning, so I figured I should check in and make sure your alright. You should probably let me do a thorough inspection of the body in question." He poked his head around her, jokingly. Her cheeks flushed.

"Get lost jackass. I had an appointment at the doctors this morning." She slipped past him into the bed room, shutting the door.

He pushed his hands into his pockets, keeping them from drifting towards the doorknob. This was Kyle's fiance he reminded himself for the millionth time, and while it would be funny as hell, it was not appropriate.

"So, you calling off the wedding?" He asked through the door, casually.

"What?"

"The wedding. Are you calling it off?" He heard a drawer shut with a slam. Kristen opened the door, rubbing her hair with her towel.

"What the hell are you going on about?"

"The song you were singing in the shower. Obviously you've figured out Stan's desperate love for your fiance and now realize the futility of trying to hold onto him." She laughed slightly, smacking him lightly with the wet towel.

"Very funny Ken." Her voice was tense, layered under amusement. He frowned at her back.

"No seriously, I mean if you give up now, the two of them could take over the wedding plans! It would be totally hassle free!"

"Ha. Ha."

"And I'm sure Stan would love Mexico-"

"Shut UP Kenny!" Kenny froze in surprise at the venom in her voice and the heat in her eyes. It melted as quickly as it had come. Remorse quickly took it's place.

"Sorry," she murmured, turning away and hanging her towel on the rack. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine," he shrugged absently. "Are you okay?" His hand drifted towards her bare shoulder blades, before he pulled it back jerkily. He shoved the hand back in his pocket.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Without looking at him, she brushed by, making her way to the kitchen.

"Somehow I doubt that." She turned, smiling lightly at him. She lifted herself gracefully onto the counter, kicking bare feet against the cupboards. Looking up in the ceiling he could see her formulating her answer.

"No, I'm okay. It's just...I'm used to having Kyle all to myself. Four years of school where neither of us had old friends or family anywhere around us. Any friends we had were our friends. Now, all of a sudden here I have to share. His family is here, his old friends, you, and...Stan. I knew they were close but I never realized how close. If we're all together he isn't the third wheel - I am."

"It's okay to feel-"

"I know," she interrupted, holding a hand up. "But it's fine, to a point. If he was ignoring me, or ditching me then we would have something to discuss but he's welcome to have a life outside of me. I just get jealous sometimes, which is probably pretty normal."

"It's cool. I get jealous of the two of them all the time." She laughed, a real smile slipping onto her lips.

"Yeah, I could see that. They are ridiculously tight." Kenny walked forward, a predatory glint in his amused eyes.

"Oh no worries Kristen. We can be just as tight, and make Kyle stupidly jealous." He leaned forward, hands on either side of her. He could feel her breathe on his face for a long moment before it caught. Blue eyes met green as he leaned closer unconsciously. He could feel the warmth from her lips, his nose brushing hers when she turned her head suddenly. His lips brushed her cheek, and his eyes closed as pain exploded through his chest. As he pulled away he met her eyes worriedly. They flashed with unknown emotions for a long moment before she laughed lightly, raising an eyebrow.

"You wish," she stated, smiling wryly. He pulled back, grinning, his heart thumping uncomfortably. The tension in the room shifted, no longer the unbearable crush of the moment before.

"Obviously."  


* * *

He ran up the stairs two at a time, grinning. She was late yet again, the silly girl. Maybe he'd catch her without her shoes on again and toss her into the snow. The way she had screeched was still etched into his brain and he chuckled at the memory. He pushed the door open, sticking his head into the entrance. He walked in further when he didn't see her immediately and slipped his shoes off.

He dropped them into his normal spot and smiled. He had a normal spot for his shoes. The only other place he had that was at his home. Even at Stan's he was rarely there for long enough to take them off.

It had been a long time since he had hung out with someone this much. It had been even longer since he had really wanted to. Every time they talked she captured his interested even further. The way she talked, the way she thought was just so completely different than what he had been raised in. She was so normal.

She loved cats and hated raisins. He favorite color was purple, and she had had a turtle named Bob when she was young. She had never seen aliens, or hunted ManBearPig, or died. She had never had to deal with the sheer amount of insanity.

And yet, when she was faced with it, with the craziness that this town could provide, she took it in stride. When she had discovered that two of her students were actually dogs, placed into human bodies by the mad scientist down the street, not only did she keep them in the class, but she had actually trained them to sing harmony.

He wandered through the kitchen following the quiet sound of her voice. Every time Kyle wandered out with Stan, which was more often than not she would call him up, or he would and they would do something. Watch a movie, order take out, or even play monopoly. He had never played monopoly in his life but he had learned he rather liked the game. She had been here for nearly six months and as Christmas approached this little down the had spent hours wandering through the little shop section hunting for Christmas gifts for her family, friends, and of course, Kyle.

It was a whole hell of a lot better than fighting off giant guinea pigs.

"No, Mum, it's okay. I understand. If Nicole is sick you should stay. Dad can't handle puke and we both know you'd get home to a disaster." Kristen was quiet as the other person on the phone said something. Pulling her knees to her chest she curled into her chair as he watched from the entrance.

"It's been fine. Kyle's great as always, and his mum is really nice. A little crazy, but we get along pretty well. His little brother is a typical irritating eighteen year old and his dad is really nice." She laughed.

"Ok, go get some orange juice and don't you get sick. Tell Nicole I hope she gets better. I love you too." She hung up, sighing deeply.

"Your sister's sick?" She jumped, spinning as far as she could on the small chair.

"What the fuck Kenny! Seriously, make some god damn noise when you move or I'll have to get you a bell and collar." She rolled her eyes as his eyes glinted in amusement. "No, that is not an offer to try some bondage."

"Damn." He snapped his fingers, grinning at her. "So what's up? You're late again." She stood, stretching. He stared casually at her face, ignoring the flash of skin between her shirt and sweats.

"When am I not? Maybe it's just that your always early. But sorry, my mum called."

"About what?"

"Oh. We...we were supposed to go dress shopping tomorrow. But my sister got sick suddenly and so she can't fly out tonight." Her words were wistful, and he could clearly hear the disappointment flooding from her, despite her smile. She jerked her head towards the doorway, grabbing her sweater off of the back of the chair. "Come on, let's go run."

He nodded absently, following her as she brushed past him. He paused as she shoved her feet into her runners. She wasn't allowed to be like this - to be so somber. Her face was relaxed, calm even, but he could see the subtle tension in her shoulders and the bubble of silence that seemed to envelope her.

"You can't go on your own? Or with Kyle?" he asked quietly, when she looked up questioningly. Her short laugh looked more like a wince.

"No, you never take the fiance. And going by yourself is...I don't know. I'm not all that fashion conscious, and I don't want to get something I look stupid it. Plus it would be...lonely. I guess I'll just have to put it off until my mum can make it out." Suddenly she was grinning, her eyes dancing.

"Seriously Ken? You would come with me?" He blinked in surprise as his mouth continued to talk without his permission.

"Definitely. Who better to tell you if your guy will like the way you look than a guy?" He looked away, shoving his own feet into his runners harder than necessary. What the hell was he doing? He was offering to go shopping for a wedding dress with Kyle's fiance. He was not a wedding person. He was not a marriage person. He was not a relationship person. And...he shouldn't be around her more than necessary. It was just a bad plan.

"I have an appointment at the salon tomorrow morning around 11. We could just go after we run, if that's okay?" She was bouncing on her tip toes as she spoke, bopping to some silent radio. She stopped, looking at his face carefully. "But you don't have to. Don't feel like you need to because I want to go." He could see the concern in her eyes, and he smiled, rolling his.

"Relax. I'm going because I want to put you into the skimpiest possible wedding gown and take pictures of Kyle's mother when you walk down the aisle." Her smile lit up the room.

"I will forgive that because your being awesome. Thanks Kenny. I really appreciate it." She jumped forward, hugging him warmly. He squeezed, holding onto her one moment longer before she pulled back to pull her sweater over her head.

"No problem." But there was a big problem. The problem was that it really was no problem.  


* * *

"I'm not coming out." He snorted at the shrill voice from the sitting room. He leaned back into the squishy green chair he sat in and took a sip of champagne.

"Yes. Yes you are."

"I am not."

"You are too."

"Am Not!"

"You know, if she isn't comfortable in the dress we really should just try somethi-" Kenny shot the attendant a look and her mouth snapped shut. "Why don't I just go look for some other options?" He grinned at her.

"Sounds good." He stood, placing the champagne flute on the table. "Kristen, either you come out, or I come in. Pick." He heard multiple swears from the small girl as she muttered under her breathe.

"Fine." He grinned as the curtain swung open, then crossed his arms in annoyance as it swung right closed again.

"Kristen. That doesn't count. Come on. I came all the way out here for you."

"And you are having way too much fun!"

"Well I didn't know they gave you alcohol. That makes everything fun." Slowly the curtain slid open and Kristen stepped out, her face twisted into a glare.

The white dress hugged her body tightly, the fabric brilliant against her light skin. He grinned, his eyes sweeping down her thin form, from the dangerously low neckline, to the sheer lace covering her midsection. A long slit on the side of the dress showed long legs. He looked up again, grinning at her. He swallowed hard, refusing to show how the dress was effecting him. His stomach twisted as she shifted uncomfortably, more of her pale skin peaking out.

"Well, I think we're found the one." She didn't even bother to dignify his quip with a response. She took a step back huffily and swung the curtain shut. He laughed, falling back into the chair he had been in for the last hour. He had seen her in many dresses, some cute, some frumpy, and some just downright ugly. He could see from her expression that she was starting to become frustrated and stood, glancing over the few racks that were near him in the small store.

A dress jumped out at him suddenly, and he pulled it down tilting his head as he examined it. He walked back over to her dressing room and pushed the dress through the gap in the curtain.

"Here. Try this one."

"Kenny I'm not-"

"Seriously. Try this one." He felt her hand brush his as she took the dress, and he backed up, unconsciously rubbing the place where she had touched him. He grabbed the glass, downing the last of his drink before he turned back to face where the curtain was sliding back.

She slipped out of the small dressing room in the long white dress. She held it up around her chest uncomfortably.

"Sorry Ken but I can't reach the zipper. Can you...?" She turned, looking at him with a small embarrassed smile gracing her lips. He nodded mutely, his heart thumping. Standing and stepping towards her, each step echoed in his ears. She turned, and his eyes slid down the long expanse of creamy skin.

She looked away, as he reached towards the small silver zipper. His finger brushed against pale skin gently and he heard her breath catch. Unconsciously he ran his finger tips down her spin gently, stepping closer to her. Her skin warmed beneath his touch, sending shivers down his spine.

He grasped the small tab, pulling it slowly up her back. The back of his hand slid over her skin smoothly and he felt her shiver beneath his touch. He stepped forward again, pulled towards her warmth. He could smell her shampoo, the scent of vanilla overwhelming his senses. He breath quickened as his hand slid off the zipper, over thin shoulders. She leaned into the touch slightly.

"And how are we doing here?" The cheerful voice sent panicked lightning through Kenny's system as he stumbled away from the bride-to-be. He glanced up nervously at the attendant as she swiftly made her way to Kristen's side tugging at the long gown efficiently.

He rubbed the back of his head absently as he mentally screamed for his heart to calm down. Kristen glanced at him, confusion thick in her glance. Their eyes met and held for what felt like forever. He swallowed, his face burning.

"Huh?" Finally she looked away and smiled at the attendant, answering some random question about the fit. Kenny collapsed quietly into the green chair, pushing the panic down.

He watched as the woman helped her up onto the pedestal, watching the smile that grew as she looked at herself. She was glowing as she spun gracefully, examining herself.

His breathe hitched again as his eyes ran over her long neck as the attendant talked about the detailed embroidery the covered the top of the dress. He had to look away as her long brown hair slid off her shoulder, fanning out across the ivory dress. Her wedding dress. That she would wear when she married Kyle. His friend Kyle.

He swallowed heavily, closing his eyes. What the fuck was he doing?

"Kenny?" His head snapped up at her quiet call. She smiled gently at him, a ghost of the previous confusion slipping through. "What do you think?" His eyes swept over the simple silk gown before once again meeting her eyes.

"You look beautiful," he answered, his voice soft. Understanding fled through her eyes as she bit her lip.

"You think Kyle would like it?" she asked, and he could her the gentle purpose in her voice. Swallowing he took a deep breathe.

She was Kyle's, he told himself again definitively. No matter what he felt between them, no matter what he wanted, or the glimpses he could see hiding in her green eyes, she was Kyle's first.

"He would be an idiot if he didn't," he replied, smiling at her. She smiled back, her eyes sparkling again.

"I think he will too," she turned to look at herself again.

Kyle would be an idiot if he didn't see how beautiful she was, and he was an idiot for seeing it.

* * *

_Hi all!_

_So this isn't the longest chapter, but it gets everything set up for the next one. And oooooh, the next one. Think obscenities, kisses, and broken coffee tables. It should be done very soon. It's almost complete as it is._

_Miric.  
_


	5. Collapse

_Woop. Two Chapters in Two days. Go Me! Anyways, here is the next chapter. As a warning this one does get a little more risque than the last few but we have finally gotten to the good stuff. Please let me know what you think - this chapter was a ton of work, and if anyone has any opinions I would love to hear them._

_Thanks All!_

_  
Miric._

* * *

"GOD FUCKING DAMN IT." Kenny jumped, knocking his mug off it's precarious perch.

"Fuck!" He stood, grabbing the mug and making his way to the kitchen. "Damn drama kings and damn dramatic entrances." He continued to mutter to himself as he grabbed a rag and roughly scrubbed at his wet jeans. Stan stormed into the room, throwing his bag onto the kitchen chair hard enough to send it in a clatter across the linoleum.

"What the fuck dude?" Kenny snapped, his eyes flashing in irritation. When all he got was a long list of profanities in response he snarled, throwing the wet cloth at the back off the black haired head. Stan spun, his face twisted in anger. Kenny's own irritation faded at once, and he grabbed the other man's arm gently.

"Dude, what?" Watching Stan's mouth open and shut, emotions running across his face to quickly to identify, Kenny's confusion only grew. Finally the other boy pulled his arm out of his grasp, taking a hesitant step back. His face seemed to melt, the anger sliding from his shoulder until all that was left was exhausted defeat.

"I'm going to take a shower," he muttered, turning away. Kenny let him disappear, his frown deepening. What the fuck? It wasn't all that unusual for Stan to show up and use his shower. His bathroom was awesome, if he did say so himself, and Stan's was the pit from hell. He wandered back to the couch, picking his novel up again and staring at the page blankly.

He had never seen Stan this freaked out. The only thing that ever broke his cool was Kyle, and even then this was extreme. He had looked murderous. He couldn't think of anything they could possibly find to fight over that would have led to that level of...whatever the hell that was. Whatever it was, it had obviously had been boiling under the surface for a long time. And he had a sinking suspicion he knew what it was.

It had been months of painfully awkward meetings between Kyle's two brunettes, and months of small attacks from Stan's side. Kristen for the most part ignored the fact that the darker haired male attacked her so bitchily, but occasionally he caught little snips hidden in innocent comments. Tiny barbs that obviously stuck underneath Stan's skin, pushing his even further.

It had become a silent competition for Kyle's attention and time. To the redhead's credit he did a good job of dividing both up fairly evenly, but Kenny could see it was starting to drain on all three.

The men's relationship had always been a little bit questionable, but as the weeks past it became more and more obvious that - Kenny sighed, shaking his head. He wasn't around the two enough to be able to conclude anything. If they weren't off together, they were around Kristen, or Stan was sulking at home.

He ran a hand through his hair as he heard the shower turn off finally. He stood, and made his way to the fridge. Grabbing two beer from the door he flicked the caps off with practiced ease.

Finally, feet silent on the carpet, he made his way to the bathroom door. Leaning against the wall, he waited for his angry friend to exit.

Two pairs of blues eyes met as the door opened. Wordless Stan grabbed the beer. He wandered back towards the could and silently Kenny followed. He fell into the armchair, throwing back a huge gulp. Kenny returned to his spot on the couch, waiting for something. For anything. Stan played absently with the label on his beer, staring at the coffee table blindly.

"I went over to Kyle's." Kenny's only response was to take a long swig of his own beer. He had been right about the Kyle part. "They were fucking." Kenny blinked in confusion at the way Stan spat out the word. Finally he leaned forward, placing his beer on the table with a solid 'click', as the thoughts in his mind did the same thing.

"Who?" he asked, almost regretting opening what he knew was going to be a very messy can of worms. He had always wondered if it would actually ever come to this, and it looked like it finally had.

"Who the hell do you think?" Stan snapped, his eyes flashing in anger again. "Kyle and Kristen." Ignoring the twist of pain in his stomach he continued to press. His own problems could wait, but Stan's looked like they were going to overcome him any moment.

"And that is a problem because...?" Once again Stan stared at him in wordless frustration. "Dude, they are getting married. What do you expect?"

"I know they are! I just-"

"What? Are you in love with Kristen?" Kenny's gut clenched at the statement, and to his horror, he heard some small corner of his mind whisper yes. No. She was pretty, and fun, and grounded, and...No. Not now. These thoughts were not what he needed now. Or ever. He turned his attention back to his friend.

The horrified, and slightly disgusted look on Stan's face answered that question quite well. "Fine. Are you in love with Kyle?" The horror faded slightly, panic taking it's place.

"I'm not in _love_ with him. He's my best friend," he choked out, his face flushing. Kenny simply raised an eyebrow. He watched Stan fight for words, stumbling. He sighed.

"Fine. You aren't in love with Kyle. We'll go with that. Did it just hit you that she isn't just someone trailing around? That she's actually part of his life?" Stan looked down. "In a way that you aren't?" The brunette physically flinched. Silence filled the room again.

"I...I guess I didn't expect him to actually get married. I figured that now that he was back she would just kind of...fade away, and things would go back to normal."

"Do you not want them to get married?"

"No, I think it's great. She's awesome and he seems happy."

"Then why do you want her gone? You certainly don't treat her like she's awesome." Kenny bit back the anger he felt as he spoke. It was true, but it wasn't the current issue.

"Because!"

"Good answer."

"Fuck off."

"Your in my house." Stan just glared at him silently, unmoving. Kenny sighed, and mentally bit the bullet. He had promised himself once he would never get in the middle of this but it looked like that choice had been taken away.

"Look, Stan, you have to make a decision. You either have to let him go and be happy for him or be fucking gay with him. Those are your two options. You can't be pissed off that he is spending time with his fiance, who will soon be his wife. She has to be more important than you."

"I fucking know that." He fell back onto the couch, his head in his hands. "I fucking know that, but whenever they are together I just want to slip in between them so they can't talk. It's completely insane."

"Yeah. It is." They were silent for a long time, the only sounds in the apartment the gentle clicking of the hallway clock, and the murmured conversation from next door. The echo of understanding thundered between the two men, blue eyes meeting. Finally a horse whisper broke out from his friend.

"I've come up with hundreds of plans. I don't even know when they started, or why they started. Getting him drunk, or high, or one of a million different things and convincing him that we should fuck. Just once. Just to say we did. But the minute the thought finishes-" Stan paused, his eyes clenching shut. "I feel so god damn sick of myself. I used to think it was that I was disgusted by the idea of fucking a guy but..." He swallowed, dropping his head into his hands.

Kenny sat silently, watching the turmoil of his friend, his own chest clenching in sympathy. His mind slipped to green eyes meeting his, glowing happily. Chapped pink lips brushing his and...His thoughts snapped back to the present as Stan jerked to his feet.

"I have to go." Stan grabbed his bag as Kenny pushed the daydream into the back of his mind.

"Stan-"

"Don't Ken. Just...Don't." He could see the tension in the dark haired boys shoulders as he stood, composing himself. Finally, he strode out the door, closing it with a gently click.

Kenny collapsed back into his chair.

"Well, fuck." He murmured, brushing his hand through his hair. "Fuck it all."  


* * *

  
The sizzle of frying foods filled the small house, and Kenny grinned as he wandered back towards the kitchen. Once again Kyle had run off with his other girlfriend, Stannette, leaving Kristen bored and in the mood to cook. That was absolutely no issue for Kenny as his skills were rudimentary at best.

As the smells reached his nose he sped up, grinning. Shrimp. How he loved the little crustaceans.

As he jogged forward his eyes widened in silent surprise at the red figure that leaned casually at the entrance to his kitchen. Attempting to slide to a stop fear flooded through him at the malicious grin on the familiar face. Tripping over the extended foot he flew forward, crashing violently into a warm figure.

Kristen slammed back into the counter, her eyes closing as the wind was knocked out of her. His hands grasped the counter around her as she looked up at him. He opened his mouth to apologize, but frowned in confusion as nothing escaped. Horrified green eyes met his as he continued to fight for breathe.

A sharp ache burst suddenly from his abdomen and he looked down, his legs shaking violently. He stepped back, his numb hands dropping to his sides as he stared down at the sharp blade protruding from his stomach. Blood dripped onto the white linoleum as he looked up at the terrified girl, her hands and shirt dark with his blood.

He stepped forward again, his hand reaching to her, trying to convey that it wasn't her fault as black began to seep into his vision. As he collapsed towards the ground he heard her scream his name.

Opening his eyes he glared at the amused red features in front of him. He glared at Satan, pushing himself up from the red ground. Pointed teeth glinted between almost black lips as the Lord of Hell grinned at the blonde.

"Welcome back Kenneth." There was a long moment of silence as fury filled Kenny's chest.

"You BASTARD!" He launched himself at the larger being, only infuriated further by the harsh laughed as he froze in his steps. The horned man shook his head in mock derision.

"Oh Kenneth. Come now. What is with the name calling? I'm only trying to help."

"By doing what? Scarring the woman I-" The words stuck in his throat and he looked away as that obnoxious laugh filled the empty space around them again.

"Love?" Kenny only glared, blue eyes flashing angrily. "Is it that hard to admit? That you are in love with your friends fiance? His wife-to-be?" Satan received no response. Snickering he wandered closer to the frozen boy.

"What, nothing to say for once? Your normally so impertinent. If this is what love does to you, I don't think I like it very much. Now I regret helping you."

"How the hell did that help ANYTHING?" Satan shrugged.

"Well obviously I just got her to kill you. Accidentally of course." Furious disbelief filled Kenny's eyes.

"I KNOW that. What does that help?"

"Well obviously now she will be overrun with guilt. She killed the one man that actually stands beside her when her little gay fiance disappears to butt-fuck his super bestest friend. How much do you think she'll feel she owes you, hmm?" Kenny's chest contracted uncomfortably.

"What are you talking about?" Grinning cruelly Lucifer wandered behind Kenny, disappearing from his line of sight. Suddenly the world faded, and he found himself back in his kitchen.

"Kenny!" A warm body crashed into his, brown hair spilling around them. He looked down, his arms automatically cradling the small brunette. Tear filled green eyes met his. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry!" His hand ran along her hair, brushing it away from tear stained cheeks.

"Hey, it's okay. I'm fine." But she was already shaking her head. She looked down examining his chest ripped shirt, her hands pulling at the buttons. When he reached to stop her she brushed his hands away, pushing his shirt from his shoulders. Cheeks flushing as the torn shirt fluttered to the ground, he stood unsure of what to do.

His breathe caught as small fingers ran down his chest, burning trails from his shoulder to his stomach. His eyes drifted shut automatically as she continued to assure herself he was there, that he wasn't dead.

His eyes flashed open when her hands were replaced with gentle lips, pressing against the spot the knife had entered. He could almost feel his heart stop as she continued to kiss him, the scorching trail leading upward until her lip brushed his shoulder, his neck, his cheek.

Kenny grasped her face, his breathing coming in short gasps.

"Kristen, what-" Searing eyes met his, brown hair falling seductively over her eyes, cutting off whatever it was he had tried to say.

"Please," she whispered. "Please." He groaned as his will power disappeared, grabbing her roughly by her shoulders and dragging her forward to meet his lips. She kissed him back desperately, her hands tangling in gold locks. He walked forward, his lips never leaving hers as he slammed her against the nearest wall. At her gasp he felt his final control melt away and his lips trailed down her neck as he grasped at her shirt wildly.

Her shirt fell to the ground as she fumbled with the buttons on his jeans. Yanking her forward he pressed his chest tightly to hers, his skin burning everywhere they touched. Groaning as her teeth bit his shoulder hard he turned his head to meet her lips again as he slipped her bra off her shoulders, the clasp coming undone easily.

Soft pale breasts pressed against him as his hands ran along her heated skin. Her breathe hitched pleasantly, his name slipping from her lips.

Growling in frustration as she pulled away slightly he looked up at her, her flushed cheeks, her bruised lips, and pink tongue as it wet her lips.

"Kenny. Bedroom." He grabbed her roughly, dragging his lips over hers once more before slipping his arm under her knees and scooping her into his arms. Hers wrapped around his neck as she continued to kiss along his shoulder. He stumbled towards the bedroom as she squirmed in his arms.

A quiet squeak escaped her lips as his arms gave out suddenly. He swore as she fell towards the floor, and he followed reaching out to catch her. His eyes widened in surprise as she disappeared through the floor.

Red washed over his vision as he gasped for air, his palms covered in the red dust that covered hell. He could feel rocks biting into his knees as he stared down at the amused face looking up at him.

"Oh dear, you want her don't you? Wow. I haven't seen passion like that in a long time. You're normally so damnably controlled. Those few girls you do bring home don't get nearly that kind of response." Kenny growled, his heart still pounding desperately in his chest as he dove backwards.

"You-I-Fuck you!" His eyes widened as Satan appeared his lap, his eyes sultry.

"Only is you ask nicely." His lips turned up in a disgusted snarl, and Lucifer frowned in exaggerated hurt. "Oh that isn't nice. What if I make myself a little more your type? Maybe pretty little green eyes?" His dark eyes morphed seamlessly. "Or maybe women are more your style? Or do they have to have dark hair? Permanently chapped lips? I can be anything you want." As his voice rose Kenny swallowed, staring at Kristen. "I can be anything you want Kenny. I can do anything you want. Anything you could dream up, and some that even you wouldn't be able to think up."

Hot breathe slid along his neck, and a small hand dragged along his thigh as she pushed him down with her other hand. Her naked body pressed against his, her hand sliding upwards, dipping finally under the hem of his jeans.

"I know you want me. All you have to do is say please." Kenny squeezed his eyes shut, swallowing hard as heat flooded his body. "Just say please. Or do you just want me to talk? To tell you how much I want you? How much I need you inside me right now?" Kristen's dark voice washed over him, sending lightning bolts through his system. He shook his head violently, desperately trying to regain control of the situation.

"No? What about how much I love you? How much I wish that Kyle would just disappear into the dark and that we could be together. How I think about you whenever me and him are together. How I wish it was your hands that-" Yelling angrily Kenny shoved the demon off him, dragging himself backwards and away.

"Stay the fuck away from me." He growled, tears welling up in his eyes. She simply stayed where she fell, tilting her head to the side.

"Huh. You really do love her. She must be something pretty damn special. Oh well." Kristen melted into Lucifer's typical visage as Kenny wiped his eyes violently on the back of his arm. He grinned at the boy.

"Who knows. Maybe when you get back she really will throw herself at you. But good luck getting her to love you while she's with that redheaded friend of yours." The pits of hell faded again and Kenny found himself in the darkness of his bedroom. He simply stared up at the ceiling for a long time, his breathing harsh in the silence.

When a sob burst from his throat it was no surprise. He simply rolled over, burying his face in the blue comforter as his body wracked in pain.  


* * *

  
He had been back for nearly a week after his latest death before he made his way to Kristen's apartment. He froze, staring at the door, pain flooding through him. He raised a hand to knock but stopped, his eyes pressing closed. Finally he yanked a pen and paper out of his backpack, scribbling a quick note and silently shoving it under the door. Spinning on his heel he jogged out the door.

_ I have to head to Ireland for a few days, courtesy of the mighty fatass. I won't be around for runs for a couple more days._

It wasn't your fault. Satan is a bitch.

Kenny

* * *

She was late. Again.

Kenny pushed the idea that she wasn't as interested in the runs as he was into the back of his mind. Of course she wasn't. She wasn't in fucking lo-

Biting his tongue hard he swore. The tang of copper flooded his mouth, efficiently cutting of his train of thought. Ever since he had returned from hell, things had been strained between the two of them. They still hung out occasionally, but not nearly as often. Their runs were nearly silent, and the tension hung in the air between them.

He knew his silence hurt her. He knew that she felt guilty about what happened, and he had never explained to her what happened. But he couldn't revisit what had happened in hell. He couldn't even let it enter his mind.

As it stood every time he saw her he could barely stop himself from pressing her into the nearest available wall and - No. He stopped that train of thought immediately, stomping up the stairs angrily. The jarring pain in his legs distracting.

Kenny sped up when he heard the loud crash from the last apartment. Sprinting forward, he crashed through the door and froze.

"What the FUCK Stan?" Kristen knelt beside Kyle helping him remove himself from what was left of their wooden coffee table. Kyle pulled himself onto the couch wincing. She ran her hands along his jaw, searching his eyes in panic. "Are you okay?" He nodded, rolling his shoulders uncomfortably. She pressed her lips gently on his forehead before rounding on Stan. The black haired man unconsciously stepped back at the fury on her face. Brown hair fluttered around her, agitatedly as she stalked forward.

"What the fucking hell did you think you were doing? He could have gotten hurt! You are such a fucking jackass Stan! You come into our home, screaming at Kyle, and shove him into our god damned coffee table! Who the HELL do you think you-"

"Kristen!" Both brunettes turned to face Kyle. Kenny saw a flash of panic fly across Kristen's face as she spun. Kyle stood, obviously still sore.

"Kyle, you should stay-"

"No. Kristen you can't talk to Stan like that." The room filled with silence. Kenny watched as Kristen deflated, her shoulders dropping. The statement didn't cause the awkward silence that Kenny knew it should. It wasn't a surprise, it wasn't weird at all. It was completely accepted and there was no way it should be. Kyle shouldn't be defending Stan right now. It made no sense.

"Kyle, he shoved you into-"

"It was an accident." Anger began to build in the redheads eyes as Kristen continued to argue. And he certainly shouldn't be getting angry at his loving fiance who was only looking out for him.

"Like hell it was an accident. He fucking shoved you!"

"Shut the fuck up Kristen! You have no idea what you're fucking talking about. This has nothing to do with you, and you should keep your nose out of my life." She stumbled backwards slightly, Kyle's biting words hitting her one at a time. The world seemed to stop as the engaged couple stared at each other. He could see the battle in Kyle's eyes as his temper faded slightly and he glanced between the two brunettes.

Kenny could feel the tension in the room slipping to the climax that he knew was inevitable, when suddenly Kristen nodded. The pressure disappeared with that simple motion, the unstated words slipping away like silk, their whispers echoing in the space between the three.

"Fine." Her voice was a whisper as she spun on her heal, running past Stan, past Kenny without looking up. Kyle took a step to follow her, the rest of his anger melting faster than it had appeared. Stan grabbed his arm as he passed, shaking his head.

"Kyle, just let her go."

And suddenly Stan was on the floor. He held his hand tightly on his eye, glaring with the other at Kenny. Fury swelled through the blonde as he stared down at his friend.

"You fucker. You have to make a god damned decision," he hissed. "You can't just stamp on her and run her off. You're such a selfish prick." His glare shifted to the stunned jew standing beside him.

"Are you going to find her?" Kyle's eyes met his for a moment, before he looked away, his eyes landing on Stan. Silently he knelt, helping his friend stand. Kenny felt his lip curl into a snarl, shoving down his anger.

"You two are so fucking lucky that I've known you so long. If you won't do what needs to be done, I will." With that he spun, running out the door after the shunned girl. He took the steps three at a time before he exploded out the apartments door. Breathing heavily, anger still storming in his gut he looked at the pristine new snow fall.

Ignoring his own footsteps, and what were obviously Stan's he took off down the street. The snow crunched noisily beneath his runners, and he wondered absently if Kristen was wearing proper shoes. Or shoes at all. He shook his head. It was too late to turn back and grab a pair now. The footsteps turned abruptly down a small path off the street, through the bushes to where he knew the pond lay.

And that's where he found her, staring across Stark's Pond, red tear tracks still burning trails down her face. She knelt, snow soaking into her jeans. Slowly, like he was approaching a skittish deer, he slipped to her side, and fell to his own knees. She turned slowly, green eyes meeting his. Desperation and pain flooded from the small girl, and he caught her as she collapsed in on herself.

Sobs wracked her body, her gasps echoing in the silence of the park. He pulled her closer, wrapping her small body in his arms. Her pained echoed in him, his anger twisting, filling him until he couldn't breathe.

He didn't know how long they sat there but finally, slowly, her sobs faded into hiccups. And her hiccups faded into sniffles. But she still didn't move from where her head was buried into his shoulder. His fury slowly dimmed, and he bent his head, tilting hers up to meet watery green eyes again. She looked exhausted; her eyes were sunken and red, and her skin was drawn. Her chapped lips were open slightly as she gasped quietly, unable to breathe in through her nose.

He smiled sadly, his lips brushing her cheek without his permission. They both froze as he pulled back. His lips hovered above her soft skin, his warm breathe brushing along her neck.

Suddenly his lips were on hers. He kissed her gently, his breath catching as she kissed him back slowly. She pulled back finally, her eyes still closed. Her head returned to it's place on his shoulder as his lips continued to burn. Millions of thoughts flooded his already busy mind. Finally he pushed them back, his arms tightening around her. He knew what was going to happen already, and he wanted to enjoy the few moments where he could pretend; where he could hold her and almost believe that she was his. Silence filled the space for a long time as snow melted into their clothes, shoes, and the tingles of numbness crept up his legs. Swallowing, he spoke past the lump in his throat.

"Kris, I need to tell you, I-" His voice was no louder than a whispered when she covered his mouth gently.

"I know," her head didn't move from it's spot on his shoulder. She curled tighter into his embrace. She continued, her voice muffled by his sweater. "Please, don't say something you can't take back. You're amazing and I don't know what I would do without you, but I'm engaged." Her voice cracked over the word, and he could hear the resignation hiding beneath it. "When things are said out loud, it opens doors that probably should have remained closed. I made a promise to Kyle that I would be with him the rest of my life and-" The lump filled his chest, and the anger was completely replaced by a deep ache, settling into his heart and mind. "-and I can't break that."

"Okay," he whispered, pressing his lips to her forehead.


	6. Desperation

He stretched, his back cracking uncomfortably. He made a face and rolled off the couch onto the soft carpet. Laying his face against the course fibers he sighed before pushing himself to his feet. Yawning he wandered into his kitchen, following the smell of bacon and eggs.

He dropped into a seat at the island and watched as Kristen wandered comfortably though the kitchen. She finished chopping the green onion residing on the counter and tossed it into the sizzling omelet occupying the left pan. Expertly folding it in half she grabbed a plate, already loaded with bacon she dropped it with a satisfying plop.

Finally she turned, smiling lightly at him. She placed the plate in front of him with a fork silently before turning back and dumping two more eggs into the pan. He took a bite, still watching her. Brown hair was pulled messily into a bun on the back of her head, and she looked much too comfortable in his oversized t-shirt and pants.

He could almost for a minute imagine that she had stayed the night for a much more pleasant reason than the reality. He sighed inwardly, focusing on the meal. He didn't even bother to reprimand himself. Fighting these thoughts was obviously a lost cause at this point. She knew exactly how he felt, so there was no point in trying to hide it from himself anymore.

He ate in silence, listening to the crackle of frying eggs. Finally she made her way to the seat beside him, her eggs scrambled and full of cheese and onion. They continued to eat companionably, the sun playing over their hands.

He turned to watch her as she stared absently at the documents stuck to his fridge. Her hair drifted around her face gently, and her green eyes looked a million miles away. He reached up gently, brushing her hair behind her ear. She turned to look at him, her eyes dark, and quiet.

Smiling gently at her he pulled his hand away and grabbed her now empty plate.

"Thanks for breakfast." She nodded absently, pushing her chair back.

"Thanks for letting me stay. I really appreciate it." He laughed lightly.

"What? Was I supposed to leave you in the snow in your socks? I think not. You have very cute feet." She was silent behind him. He closed his eyes, his jaw clenching. Sighing her turned to face her, leaving the dishes on the counter. He met her eyes definitively, calmly grabbing her hand.

"Kristen, I know what happened makes you think we need to change things. But we don't. You knew I cared about you, before you knew that I care about you the way I do. Either way I want you to be happy, and I will never try anything I think will hurt you. And I _know_ that trying anything romantic will not only hurt you, but force you to stay away from me. But I can't not be me. I flirt with people - that's just who I am. If I don't flirt with you, if I start acting differently then that is the real proof that things have changed." He watched her eyes as they searched his.

"I will never put you in a situation where you have to choose. You are one of my favorite people, and you're stuck with me. So I'll try not to make you too miserable." That surprised a grin out of the young woman. The grin faded into a warm smile and she pulled him into a gentle hug.

"Thank you," she whispered. He hugged her back lightly, releasing her as she pulled back.

"Anytime." She smiled at him, before it melted into her previous somber state. She stared at him for a long minute, her lips twitching slightly. His mouth snapped shut, as be began to ask what was wrong when her hand brushed over the buttons on his shirt.

False memories flooded through him, his face flushing as he fought to push them done. After that stunning speech of his, ravaging her against the kitchen wall was probably the worst possible thing he could ever do.

She pulled away hesitantly looking up at him again.

"Why aren't you mad at me?" she whispered, her eyes unsure. "Why are you being so kind all of a sudden? I killed you."

"Oh Kris." He pulled her back into his arms, ignoring the uncomfort in an attempt to comfort the tormented girl. "It wasn't your fault. It was an accident." He felt her shaking slightly, and heard a suppressed sniffle. "I know I've been a little cold lately, but it wasn't because of you. Satan was...he decided to pull some strings while I was down there and it just pushed me into a bad mind frame. I'm sorry I took it out on you."

"Moo Shurf?" He grinned as her muffled voice reached his ears.

"Yes, I'm sure. I die all the time. There isn't anyone I know who hasn't killed me. Seriously, I was beginning to think you didn't care!" She laughed outright at that, pulling away.

"Okay." She looked out the window, her lower lip captured between her teeth. He could see her indecision in the set of her shoulders.

"I...should call Kyle," she murmured, making no move towards the phone.

"No." When her eyes flittered over to meet his, he could see relief hidden in them. "You aren't going to call that dumb ass. You will let him call you. If you call him, you know perfectly well you will end up apologizing for something that was no where near your fault. Let him sweat for a while and he'll come running back to you." Her lips disappeared into her mouth again and he laughed. "Seriously. Don't. He'll come around in the next day or two. He may be a dumb ass, but he isn't _stupid_. He knows how much you care about him." She smiled hesitantly, nodding.

"I still don't like it..." Flicking her nose gently he grinned at the face she pulled.

"Yes well, he deserves to be tortured for a while. Any anyways, we are going to sit here today, eat crap that you make because you are obviously much more proficient in my kitchen then I am, and watch all the re-runs of CSI that we can find and make fun of the characters. I bet that I can figure out who the murderer is in them faster than you can." His heart lifted as he saw laughter dancing in her eyes.

"You are so on." Following her into the living room his smile faded and he took a deep breathe before forcing it back into place. He wasn't going to loose her.

He just couldn't have her.  


* * *

  
Kenny stood as there was a knock on the door. He rubbed the towel over his hair roughly, wrapping it around his bare shoulders as he yanked the door open. The quiet sound of the television murmured in the background as his jaw clenched at the sight of the redhead standing in front of him.

The two men stared at each other for a long moment before, his heart sinking into his stomach, he turned, waving Kyle through the door. He hesitantly walked in, glancing at Kenny uncomfortably. The blonde walked stiffly down the hallway, knocking on the bedroom door.

"One sec Ken." Her quiet voice echoed through the space and he nodded at the other man before making his way down the hall again into the kitchen. He collapsed into one of the chairs silently, his eyes squeezed shut. Pain flashed through him as he slammed his fists onto the stone counter.

The small amount of control he had used over the last three days to keep himself in check disappeared as his hands crashed down again. Silently screaming, his head dropped into his hands.

He had almost let himself hope. Almost allowed himself to dream that Kyle would be a bigger idiot than he had previously expected and not show up. That maybe - just maybe-

A hot tear splashed onto the counter as he growled quietly in frustration. He shouldn't have even allowed his mind to wander. Even if Kyle had been idiotic enough to leave her, he couldn't have her. He wasn't even a fucking real person, he was just some sort of walking dead man, haunting this small town.

She deserved better. She deserved light, and love, and life. The horror struck look he had seen on her face as her hands dripped his blood would be trapped in his mind forever. But so would the feeling of her lips on his and her hair on his face and everything - everything about her was etched into his memory.

If he didn't know that Satan had absolutely nothing to do with love, aside from reveling in the pain that came along side it, he would have been sure that she had been sent to torment him. To punish him for some crime he couldn't remember committing.

Because there must be something he had done wrong. He had never been the most moral person, but he had always tried his best to keep from hurting others. Girls had wandered in and out of his bedroom on occasion, but all of them knew exactly what it was they were getting themselves into. He had never strung any of them along and he had never wanted to.

So why all of a sudden could he not tear his eyes away from this one girl? Why couldn't he leave he behind and just stay away from her and her red headed fiance? Kyle had been gone for four years, and he had only visited a handful of times so obviously it wasn't some need to stay near him. And Stan avoided the girl like the plague - so obviously he could still hang out with the other man and never see her.

It would be so utterly easy to just cut her out of his life; to just save what was left of his confused and cracking heart and just go back to who he had been before. Why didn't he just go back to who he was before?

Swallowing hard he looked down at his already bruising knuckles. Because he didn't want to be who he had been before.

Suddenly his life had become, well, a life. He felt grounded, and like he was actually a solid part of the world around him. For the first time, he actually had someone who cared enough about him to not only put up with his rather disturbing habit of dying on a semi-regular basis without running away screaming, but that had the ability to pull him back down onto the earth, and give him something to use as a anchor, no matter how out there he felt.

He had someone who knew who he was, and someone who would miss him - who did miss him when he died.

His eyes drifted to the entrance to the hallway, listening to the soft murmur of voices coming from his bedroom. Smiling sadly he wandered over to the freezer, pulling out a bag of peas and dropping it on his hand.

"Kristen," he whispered to himself, leaning his forehead against the cool appliance. "I love you."  


* * *

He raised his beer to his lips, taking a deep pull from the bottle. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Stan do the same. The dark haired man stared, unseeing at the television. Some random football game played, between two teams that Kenny just couldn't work up the energy to give a shit about.

Kristen had moved back to her apartment three days after the infamous, and untalked of, fight. Kyle had come back, and from the little she had told him he had admitted that he had been an idiot. Apparently Stan had finally come to his senses and told the redhead that it was the girl he should be taking care of - not the idiot who shoved him into a coffee table.

Glancing over Kenny smiled slightly. While Stan could be possessive over Kyle, and a overreacting dumb ass he was a good guy when it came right down to it. Her frowned when he saw the glint that indicated that Stan was actually residing in his body flash. He saw the other man glance over at him and sighed inwardly.

They were_ men_ god damn it. They weren't supposed to talk so damn much.

"Ken?"

"Yeah?" He continued to stare at the tv, pretending to be enthralled by the game.

"Have you ever been in love?" The unexpected question through him off guard. He froze, putting his beer down slowly on the coffee table before him.

"What? Why do you care about that?" He asked quietly, leaning back and staring at the fuzzy ceiling.

"I'm just...curious. You've just never seemed to be that interested in girls." Kenny snorted.

"Well then, how do you know I swing that way?" he asked amusedly. He scratched the back of his head absently, but turned to look sharply at his friend at his response.

"Are you gay?" Stan asked bluntly, his blues eyes piercing into the blonde. His seriousness was nerve wracking.

"I'm not really anything. I like what I like."

"You mean like...bi?" Kenny shrugged.

"To be honest I've never really been interested enough to give a shit. If it feels good it feels good. I've never gotten tied up past that." Stan seemed to consider that for a moment.

"So you've never been in love?" Kenny's teeth clenched. He thought he had managed to get around that one.

"I-" He stopped, unable to come up with a response. "Dude, this is obviously not about me. What's up?" There was no response from the other boy. Kenny sighed, rolling his eyes slightly. He wasn't the one who started this question and answer, and now the one who-

He did a double take. Obviously his mind was playing tricks on him. There was no reasonable explanation as to why his hands were on Stan's hips. There was no plausible reasoning to why his legs straddled Kenny's. There was _no bloody way_ that Stan's lips were on his.

But somehow, even taking that into consideration there was no denying the warm pressure on his mouth, and the warm hands grasping his neck roughly. His eyes drifted closed and he kissed his friend back as the hesitant kiss grew more vicious. He gasped slightly as teeth bit down painfully on his lip, grasping the other mans waist tightly.

_Fuck_, it had been a long time, not counting Lucifer's idiotic attempt to seduce him. His breath sped up as Stan's tongue slipped into his mouth, tangling with his. His hands slid under the brunettes shirt, nails biting into the soft flesh he found there. Stan pressed himself tighter, crushing their bodies together as his lips trailed down Kenny's neck.

With his mouth free to pull in much needed oxygen he fought to get his head under his control. When Stan ground his hips into his, groaning deliciously Kenny had to bite down on his tongue. Stan's lips pressed against his again, the desperation in his movements obvious.

Sighing inwardly Kenny relaxed his grip on the taller boy, his hands running gently over his back. He slowed the kisses patiently, until finally Stan pulled back slightly, his eyes closed, and his forehead pressing gently against the other mans. Waiting for a long moment, his arms still wrapped loosely around Stan's waist he listened until Stan's breathing finally calmed down to a fairly normal rate.

"As much as I would love a romp with you," he murmured quietly, "I don't think now is a good time." Blue eyes opened hesitantly, meeting his calm ones. Panic flashed through them and Stan pulled back, pulling away. Rolling his eyes, Kenny grabbed his arm, pulling him back down onto the couch and into his arms. He could feel Stan tense.

"Relax idiot. Obviously our personal space boundaries have been pretty much blown to shit so we may as well use it to our advantage. It's fucking cold." Plus, it felt nice to hold someone and he was pretty sure if he didn't hold on to the brunette, the dark haired man may fall apart. Slowly Stan relaxed, leaning into the blonde. "So, what was that all about?" He asked calmly, and Stan shifted uncomfortably.

"I just...wanted to see."

"If you were gay?"

"I guess." Kenny laughed slightly.

"You _guess_? You jump me, and you _guess_ you were checking if you were gay?" Stan's cheeks flushed brilliantly.

"I just didn't really think it through. I just...wanted..."

"Now there is a better answer. You just wanted." Stan glanced at him, unsure if the response had been serious. "That makes sense to me. It's been a while since you've been with someone, and obviously you have some relationship issues that your battling with."

"What? No. I'm not in a relationship."

"I never said you were." Stan glared back at the blonde, the expression useless as he leaned deeper into his embrace.

"Shut up." Kenny grinned at the immature response.

"Are you in love?"

The quiet question was like a shock to the brunette. Suddenly there was a light in his eyes, and his entire body tensed.

"I don't know." He responded quietly after a moment. "How do you know?" Kenny reached around, turned the television off, thinking for a long time. Finally he ran his hand gently through the other mans hair.

"I think-" he answered hesitantly, "-it's when you can answer two questions with 'yes'." blue eyes met his.

"What questions?"

"Do you want them?" Stan bit his lip, but nodded shakily, and the blonde heard a small voice in his mind whispering the affirmative as well. Kenny swallowed, as the tension in the room began to build, making it almost unbearable to speak.

"And, do you need them?" His eyes closed tightly as the other male nodded again. The mutual pain mixed to the point of being unrecognizable. Finally he looked up, forcing his eyes to open. Stan stared at him, his blue eyes echoing what he felt creeping in his stomach.

"Then you are probably in love." Finally Kenny collapsed back onto the couch, rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands. He was unprepared for the gentle but forceful statement.

"You're in love with her." He didn't respond, but simply stood. Stan looked at him, his previous panic reappearing. "Sorry I-" Kenny shook his head and made his way to the kitchen. Yanking open the fridge he felt the cold air biting into him, and he could almost imagine it leaking into his mind and soul, numbing them. But as pale skin and green eyes flashed through his memory the pain stabbed him again and he roughly grabbed two new bottles of beer.

Making his way back into the living room he passed one to his friend before returning to his previous place. He pulled the cap off, hearing Stan do the same. He wrapped one arm casually around the other male. Grinning ironically he lifted his beer.

"Nothing spoils the taste of peanut butter like unrequited love." Stan snickered, raising his glass at his quote. Drinking deeply he reveled in the bitter taste.

"Are you going to tell her-"

"She knows." He interrupted, drinking again. Blue eyes widened.

"Dude you tried to...to..." He was already shaking his head.

"No. I didn't. She sort of...figured it out on her own. I was never going to, and don't plan on doing anything about it. We've come to an agreement, and thats all there is to it."

"But how can you stand it? Seeing her with him and not doing anything?"

"I figure there are a couple options. One, I could try and break them up without them knowing it was me." He glanced at the brunette pointedly, who at least had the decency to look down. "But the problem with that one is that I'm just not sneaky enough. That requires me to lie for the rest of my life. Two, I could confront her straight on, and force her to break someone's heart, either mine or his. If I did that, I would have to believe that I was as good as, or better for her than who's she's with. And I'm not. Three I could wait. And hope. And four-" He paused. "Four I can love her as much as I do, and be the best friend I can possibly be. I can take what she gives me and try and be happy with it."

"What if-" the question was hesitant, and Kenny could barely hear it. "What if you thought you were better for her than him?"

"I'm not. And stop deflecting your questions onto me. I've already made my decision. Have you?" Stan shook his head. "Well then you had better decide before you manage to push him away completely and loose what you have now." As the words came out of his mouth he frowned. It almost sounded like he wanted Stan to try and break the two up. He examined his statement carefully, searching for his true meaning.

While it was true that he would love to have a chance with Kristen, would be be willing to purposely try and drive a wedge between her and Kyle? Is that what he was doing with this conversation?

No. He concluded honestly. No, I'm just telling Stan what I would tell anyone else. He has the right to make that decision for himself. And as his friend I have to tell him what I believe.

And Kristen...if Stan made a decision to tell Kyle how he quite obviously felt...it would mean nothing but pain for the small girl. His heart clenched painfully at the thought.

No. He was simply caught between a rock and a hard place. No matter what happened, someone he cared about was going to be hurt. All he could do was be honest and be ready to help whoever fell.

Or pick up someone who had already fallen as the case may be.

* * *

_Wooo! Another Chapter down. _

_And pretty much no reviews. I know you guys are out there! I can see you on the story stats! Though I'm not going to be rediculous like some and demand a certain number of reviews before I post again. I always thought that was a good way to irritate people...But I really would love to hear your thoughts. Even if they are just "I'm allergic to peanut butter."_

_That quote by the way was Charlie Brown! _

_The next chapter is pretty close to done already, so it'll be up soonish._

_Thanks for reading!_

_Miric._


	7. Endings

He sat in the quiet office, tapping his feet on desk to the beat of the music pumping through the headphones. He pushed his chair back and forth absently, humming to himself.

Rubbing his shoulder he winced. Maybe he should just die more often, if it meant he could avoid the flight to Chicago. He had always hated planes, regardless of how often they crashed with him on them. But buses and cars were no better, and they just took longer. He had told Cartman once that he should push his investors into warp travel enterprises, but the larger man had simply rolled his eyes and told him that the chances of that happening where slim to none.

Besides, time travel was much more likely.

Kenny yanked his feet off the oak desk quickly, hoping Eric hadn't seen and turned as he heard the bigger man's footsteps. His eyes widened as Eric and a red headed female tumbled through the door. They grasped at each other, panting slightly. As Cartman's hands slipped under the woman's shirt Kenny coughed politely.

The girl sprung away from the CEO, pulling her clothes back into a semblance of order. Eric simply glared, unmoving.

"What do you want, poor boy?" He grabbed the red heads wrist as she continued to shift away, pulling her back into his arms casually. Panic flashed through her eyes as she looked between the two men, before slowly relaxing into the hold.

"I'm just here to drop off my report, like you commanded, oh lord and master. Plus I'm supposed to meet with a couple of art critics who are interested in getting involved with some of our showings in Los Angeles. Hey Kat. How's it going?" The young woman smiled weakly at him, running a hand through her hair self consciously.

"Uh, fine Kenny. And you?"

"Oh, just wonderful as always." He flashed a grin at the girl before looking back at his friend. "I knew you were gettin' some. Good for you!" As the red head sputtered in indignation Cartman rolled his eyes.

"Anything major I need to know about the Egypt accounts?"

"Nope, not really. Found a couple of fragments and whatnot but nothing major. Easy to pass through our normal contacts. No need to pull in anyone bigger yet, but I'm keeping an eye on things." Nodding Eric yanked his door open.

"Good. Then get out." Grumbling he shoved his ipod into his pocket, shuffling out the door.

"Fine. Be that way," he muttered childishly.

"I will." The door slammed behind him and he chuckled.

"Best of luck Kat," he muttered, grinning. Wandering down the modernly decorated halls he hopped into an open elevator and made his way to the main floor.

Wandering out onto the brightly lit street he stretched again, taking a deep break of the warm air. Spring has sprung and all that, he thought to himself, walking slowly down the street.

As he passed one of the multitudes of boutiques on the main strip his eye was caught by a young girl, a white dress being pinned carefully to her thin frame through a large picture window. He slowed, watching as her face lit up, simply glowing with happiness. He shook his head, continuing on his trek.

After his little...rendevouz with Stan things seemed to have settled down slightly. Stan was quieter than normal, but was no longer quietly torturing his best friends fiance. It seemed like he had finally made a decision, and was trying to keep his cool, letting Kyle get on with his life. Things had almost been peaceful for the last few weeks. But as the date of the wedding crept closer a feeling of dread had begun to build deep in Kenny's gut.

Things had been too quiet. Nothing had gone wrong, no one went crazy, all the wedding plans were going smoothly, he had even managed to keep from dying. It just wasn't normal for south park and it was making him nervous. It was like the bad luck the town swam in had pulled away to regroup, preparing for something huge.

And there was nothing he could do to stop it. Stretching up, he jogged across the street, heading towards a green neon sign. He jumped as his phone ring and he yanked it out.

"What?" he growled, dodging around a car that ran the stop sign nearest him.

"Sorry, you busy?" Her quiet alto voice shoved his irritation away immediately.

"No, no sorry. Just about got hit by a car." Her silence on the other end spoke volumes. "I'm fine. Didn't even clip me."

"Kay," she mumbled.

"Did you need something beautiful?" he asked, trying to push away the thoughts he could practically hear through the phone.

"Oh. Right. Um...I won't be able to go test cake tomorrow. I cancelled the appointment."

"What? Why?"

"I'm just...not feeling all that well."

"Did you re-book the appointment?"

"No, not yet."

"What about the caterer? Did you book-"

"No. I'm busy." He could hear the tears welling up in her voice. "I've gotta go Ken." The line went dead. He stared at the small block of plastic laying motionless in his hand. Panic began to swell in his gut.

What the hell was that all about? It wasn't often that the girl wouldn't talk to him about what was bothering her, so if she didn't want to there was a distinct possibility that calling her back would only hurt her. But leaving her on her own could be pretty damn bad too.

What if something had happened at home, when he wasn't there? She had seemed really passive. What if Stan-His eyes shot down onto his phone again as a text message flashed at him.

_I'm fine. Don't worry. It's just been one of those days. Have fun at your meeting. Eat something yummy for me.  
_  
Some of the tension that had been growing slowly uncurled in his gut. If something had happened with Kyle she wouldn't be able to hide it like that. Obviously something was wrong, but he'd be better off trying to pull it from her when he was actually there.

He shouldered his way into the restaurant, his mind still whirling. He smiled, gushed, grinned, and played his part as the investors he had been sent to charm relaxed right into the palm of his hand. All the while his thoughts remained in a small mountain town in Colorado.

* * *

He laughed, watching the thin brunette dance around his kitchen, a wisk dripping some kind of sause onto her shoulder. Still grinning he grabbed a rag, and with his other hand her wrist. Yanking her to him he quickly wiped the spot of the pale skin with flourish.

"Tada! I have now done my part for this dinner. So the rest is up to you." She rolled her eyes.

"Ha ha Ken. Like you were doing anything anyways. What time is it?" He glanced at the clock on the wall as she turned back to the stove.

"Almost five. They should be here in a few minutes." She nodded absently, pulling a pot off the burner.

"I still can't believe you invited them over for supper. You can't cook." He grinned, winking at her.

"But I know that you can!" She rolled her eyes again, muttering to herself. He was pretty sure he heard something about idiot house owners with nice kitchens. He stood at the loud ringing of his doorbell, still laughing lightly.

Yanking the door open, he moved to let Stan in.

"Dude, your early. Kyle's not here, and supper isn't ready!" Stan's eyes opened wider, and he hesitated in the doorway.

"Wait, you were serious? We're not just ordering in? You're cooking?" The horror on the other man's face was just picture perfect. Kenny plastered a hurt look over his features.

"What? What's wrong? Last time I made dinner it was great!" Stan took a hesitant step backwards.

"Maybe I should go home...I think I forgot my...bathtub running." At the giggle behind him, Kenny turned with a grin. Kristen stood behind him, wiping her hands with a dish rag.

"Relax Stan. He didn't cook - I did. I'm not the greatest chef, but I don't burn toast."

"Shut up. That was ONCE." Kenny denied vehemently, pouting.

"Kenny, you managed to make _me_ burn toast." The blonde looked over Stan's head at the taller man.

"Oh, the horrors. Fat ass doesn't get his thirteenth piece of toast. Maybe I did it on purpose to try and save your heart." Eric grinned at him, pulling his cute redhead into his arms.

"Don't call me fat, poor boy."

"Don't call me poor, fat ass." Eric looked down in vague irritation as Katrina poked him in the ribs.

"Be nice Eric." Glaring at the small girl, he backed down from the argument with a sigh. Kenny winked at him.

"Wtchay! Whipped."

"Antagonizing the Nazi bastard already Ken?" Kyle navigated his way through the clog of people in the doorway, gripping Stan on the shoulder before making his way over to Kristen. Kenny looked away as her eyes lit up and she leaned happily into the other redheads arms.

"Nah, just continuing with the traditional greetings." They all turned to the kitchen door as a loud 'beep' broke into the conversation. Kristen grinned.

"Suppers ready. Let's eat!"  


* * *

  
Supper was a noisy, argumentative affair. Kenny leaned back, smiling as Cartman once again was hit by two redheads simutaniously for proposing to the pretty brunette beside him.

His eyes slipped to Kristen as she giggled. She looked up, meeting his eyes. Her cheeks were flushed from laughing and the light in her eyes could have filled up the room. Happiness radiated from her as she looked away, leaning into Kyle's arms, murmuring to him quietly.

He smiled down at her as well. Kenny pushed away the gentle nagging of the hurt in his heart as he looked around the table. Suddenly he was gripped by the desperate need to keep this night going. It just seemed too perfect. Something was going to go wrong. Something was going to happen.

Cartman looked down at his watch before pushing his chair back.

"Well, we need to go. Our plane leaves in two hours and we have to pack." Panic began to well up in Kenny's chest. His family couldn't leave. This was all he had and he knew that when they left today, nothing would ever be the same.

"No!" Everyone looked at him strangely. "What about Monopoly? We should play Monopoly."

"Kenny, you looser, do you even OWN monopoly?" He stuttered for an answer, coming up blank as Eric helped Katrina out of her chair.

He continued to mutter excuses as he walked the two to the door and watched them drive away. He turned, only to find Stan and Kyle pulling on their jackets as Kristen battled with the laces on her runners.

"You're leaving?" Kristen looked at him oddly, the panic in his voice obvious.

"Yeah, we all have to work in the morning. Sorry Kenny." Kyle smiled at him. "We'll have to do it again soon." He nodded, unable to come up with any reasonable reason to get them to stay. They slowly made their way out onto the front step, the conversation drifting again.

"Oh, right. When you go grocery shopping tomorrow Kristen, can you grab peanut butter? We ran out." Kyle leaned down as she nodded, brushing his lips to hers. The world seemed to stop. Kenny looked over the frozen scene, feeling the invisible pressure that had built up for the last year reach critical peaks.

Stan's hand whipped out, grabbing Kyle's wrist and yanking him away from the girl. Three pairs of shocked eyes spun to look at the black haired man. His eyes were fixed on one pair of green orbs. Anger, desperation, and need rushing through his blue eyes he swallowed, unsure. Kenny felt the panic in his gut disappear. This stories end was innevitable now.

"What's wro-"

He felt his heart stop as Stan grabbed the back of Kyle's head, crushing his lips sloppily against the other mans. The redhead didn't move, didn't even seem to breath as Stan pulled away slowly, his eyes closed.

Kenny watched as their noses brushed, and Kyle's hiss as he gasped. The dark haired boy leaned forward, pulled by the sound of his best friend breath. As their lips brushed again his eyes sprung open, and he stumbled back. Kyle body seemed to be pulled by his retreat, the emptiness in the air before him dragging him towards the brunette.

"Kyle." Stan's voice broke harshly, cracking over the name. "Kyle. I- I'm so sorry." He spun, diving away from the porch like the hounds of hell were on his heels. Kyle stared after him, his eyes oddly blank until a small white hand grasped his shoulder gently. He spun, facing his fiance as Kenny continued to watch the drama silently.

"Kristen, I-"

He watched, heart breaking at the whisper of a kiss. She pulled away slowly, frozen in the moment. Her eyes were closed, and lips slightly parted as she battled. Finally she pulled away, finitely.

"Kyle," she whispered, her voice tiny. "We both know that you will never be as happy with me as you are with him. This has nothing to do with how we feel about each other. There is no way that it could stand a rain drops chance in hell against what you two have. Go find him." His hand brushed over her cheek and she leaned into it, her eyes closing again.

"Kristen, I love you..." A small, sad smile graced her lips.

"I know. I know you would have married me, and you would have been happy and loved me the rest of my life. And that's how I know how much you love him. Now go." She stood, perfectly still as he kissed her again gently before spinning and running down the street. The world seemed to stop, and Kenny could almost see her collapse in on herself. He stepped forward, reaching towards her unconsciously. Before he could reach her she inhaled suddenly, her back strengthening. He pulled back, pushed by an invisible force. She turned, smiling gently.

"Thanks for dinner Ken. I'll see you in the morning?" Her eyes brooked no comment as he nodded mutely. "Cool. See you later." She walked briskly down the sidewalk, waving as she turned the corner towards her apartment.  


* * *

  
Kenny ran towards the apartment, seeing the familiar hoody standing beside the gate. He didn't stop as he passed, slowing as she joined him silently. He glanced at her quietly, unsure how to break the fragile tension. Biting his lip, he simply looked forward and ran.  


* * *

  
The next day the simple gold band had disappeared from her left hand. He noticed as she readjusted the ear bud more comfortably. His heart dipped oddly at her unadorned hand - it was too weird. It was Kristen and she wasn't with Kyle. She wasn't taken. She wasn't getting married.

Swallowing hard he turned forward, running a little faster than before.  


* * *

  
He sat in the back of the room, as the small choirs wandered on and off the stage. Kristen smiled brilliantly as the parents applauded and the children shuffled shyly as they sang. He doubted that anyone noticed her hands as they shook turning the page in the music.  


* * *

She had almost seemed normal, as they had wandered back to his home after having supper at the little chinese place down the street. A small smile played over her lips and her tired eyes were clear and bright. He watched her as they walked down his driveway, and as he reached for his keys she froze. He turned to look at her, and she stared at his door, biting her lip. She looked up at him apologetically and silently turned and walked the other way. He swallowed down the hurt as he looked away, shoving his way through the door.  


* * *

  
He ran faster, his breathe coming short as he tried to keep up to the small girl. She was nearly sprinting forward as the sun crept up over the sleepy houses. He grabbed her arm, pulling her back. They skidded to a stop and he could hear her harsh breathing over his. She stared at the ground, her face hidden behind her hood. Finally she looked up, her eyes filled with rage and tears. She shook his arm off and took off again, leaving him behind.  


* * *

  
No matter how often he tried to bring up what had happened, she seemed to read his mind and beat him to it. All of a sudden she would have a bright idea of what to do, or who to go visit, or some random chore she needed to get done. She was coroding slowly though, fighting against the slip. Each day was another rush of memories, breaking down her walls.

Kenny wasn't sure what he wanted in that regard. On one side, if they collapsed, it may be easier for her to heal and to get past it. But on the other side, he couldn't decide how much damage the inevitable fall out was going to have.

As he watched her swallow hard and turn away from his soft eyes he sighed. One more day. He would wait.  


* * *

He jiggled the lock expertly, opening the door smoothly. Walking in and closing the door behind him he felt his heart drop into his stomach. All he could see was brown.

Boxes were scattered everywhere around the small living room, and he could see a dark shape shifting behind the small chinese divider, that hid the bedroom. The kitchen's drawers were all pulled out, empty aside from dust. His fingers brushed along a giant tape dispenser haphazardly dropped onto the counter.

"Kristen?" He called out quietly. He heard a loud thump, and a swear, before she walked around the corner. Baggy sweatpants and messy ponytail a stark contrast to her normal pulled together attire. From across the room he could see the bags under her eyes, and the strain in her limbs. She looked at him oddly, her lips turning upward uncomfortably. It took him a moment to realize that it was a smile.

"Ken? What are you doing here?" Her voice was raw, strained and quiet.

"I came to see how you are," he replied absently, staring at the boxes without comprehension. "What are you doing?"

"Packing." She replied shortly, turning to pull a number of books off her piano and place them into a nearby box. It was already packed full. Standing, she looked around, an irritated frown on her face. "Where the hell did I put the tape - thingy?"

He reached over the counter silently, grabbing the dispenser and handing it to her.

"Thanks." She gave him another one of her carelessly fragile smiles and bent over to run the tape along the box.

"Your leaving." He stated, hearing the brokenness in his voice. Shaking his head he pushed back at the emotions running through him, failing in his fight to push them away.

"Yeah. I'm moving back to Toronto."

"Why?" She paused, still kneeling beside the brown box, her hands gripping it tightly.

"Because I have nothing to stay for here," she answered finally. "My family, my friends are all there."

"You have friends here," he reminded her cautiously, trying not to allow the hurt he felt at her comment come out on his words. But she was already shaking her head.

"No, he has friends here. I don't." She stood up sharply, walking decisively back into the bedroom area. He followed her, biting his lip. He watched her for a long minute as she tossed random objects into the boxes randomly placed around the room.

She turned to look at him, frowning.

"What did you say?" She asked quietly.

"I said, You have me," he replied equally quietly, realizing for the first time he had spoken. Her face fractured heartbreakingly.

"Oh, Kenny, that isn't what I meant. You're amazing, and of course your my friend but..."

"Kyle." The name dropped into the void between them, filling the room to the point where he could barely breathe. She winced, looking away from him. Her hands reached for something, anything physical, anything to distract her.

She found his.

She looked up, startled. He met her grey eyes, finally seeing the depths of the brokenness she was carrying.

"Kris." And her walls crumbled. With a cry her knees gave out, and he pulled her into the safety of his arms. Sobbed wracked her body, and her hands grasped at his shirt. He pulled her even closer, as if his arms could protect her from the world, from the pain. The world disappeared and all there was, was the fog of fear, pain, and anger flooding from the small girl.

But the world continued to turn, and when they fog finally began to dissipate, Kenny found he had maneuvered the girl and himself into the small bed. He sat, his back against the head rest, stroking her short hair gently, her head buried in his shoulder. As her tears slowly faded into exhausted gasps he reached beside them where a box of Kleenex sat. Handing her the small token, he surprised a wet laugh from her.

"Thank you." She blew her nose before leaning back into him. They sat there for a long time, listening to the quiet noises of the other tenants around them.

"I don't want you to go," he murmured finally, burying his face in her hair. He felt a deep sigh, escape from her.

"I know," she whispered, almost inaudibly. The moment stretched on, resignation in both of the two bodies. Finally he pushed her away slightly, meeting her eyes.

"If your leaving, I'm coming with you." The statement was final, unarguable, and nothing less the the truth. She deserved better than him. She deserved everything life could offer, but he was a selfish son-of-a-bitch. She squirmed her arm around his, rubbing red rimmed eyes gently on the back of her sleeve.

"You're family is here," she murmured.

"They won't even notice I'm gone."

"Your job."

"I can work anywhere. I don't do anything here anyways. I'm always flying."

"Your friends." She lay her head on his shoulder again. He sat silently for a while, contemplating.

"I'll see Cartman all the time anyways. Me and Kyle were never really that close honestly, and Stan...well, we both know he isn't going to miss me. Not now." She didn't argue, didn't respond. He stroked her short hair gently, until that became his whole world.

The strands were so soft, and fine, and...

"Kenny, I'm broken," she whispered, snapping him out of his own thoughts. "I'm holding it together, but barely. I can't promise you anything. I can't even give you anything because right now I have nothing left. I'm going to be angry, and bitter, and I'm still in love with someone else. I can't tell you that if anything happened it wouldn't just be a rebound, or a fling. I could hurt you, and destroy the friendship we have. I might even do it on purpose, just to know that someone hurts as much as I do." He lifted her chin gently, and without a moments hesitation placed a gentle kiss on her lips.

"I know."

* * *

_Thanks so much for those of you who read this:) I'd love to hear what you think, as well as any ideas about what you'd like me to try next. I'm thinking I may do a one shot as kind of an...epilogue to this one from Stan's point of view. But I'm not sure yet. _

_This is the first story I have ever finished. I'm pretty proud:) Obviously there could be a lot of improvements to it, but over all I like it._

_:) I'll be back soon!_

_Miric_


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